


Branded

by ObliviousApple



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Fuckery, Apocalypse, Branding, Brother!Dean, Brother!Sam, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gabriel Ships It, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Reader is Bobby's Daughter, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Soulmates, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Winchesters are good bros, dad!bobby, fated, slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:55:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 61,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25394221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObliviousApple/pseuds/ObliviousApple
Summary: I'm on a Supernatural binge, so here's my attempt at a Castiel/Reader fic.Basically, the first time Cas ever touches you, a brand appears on your arm. A brand that says his name in Enochian. Come along for the ride as you try to stop the apocalypse, save the Winchester's from their own idiocy, and fall in love with our favorite feathered bastard.Spoiler alert: the brand is a soulmate mark. Who saw that coming?!
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural)/You, Castiel/Reader
Comments: 62
Kudos: 371





	1. Lazarus Rising

Chapter 1: Lazarus Rising

“Do I look like a ditch-able prom-date to you?!” your Dad shouted at the boys. 

You stood beside him, glaring at the two morons that were your surrogate brothers. How dare they think they could go face the demon bitch Lilith alone? With only hours remaining, Dean was practically hell’s bitch. There was no way you were going to let him just waltz right into his death without you fighting tooth and nail to keep him from the fire.

“No, Bobby. Of course not,” Sam said placatingly. 

“This is about me and Sam, okay? This isn’t your fight,” Dean interrupted, looking between you and Dad. 

“The hell it isn’t!” Dad yelled.  
  


“You think we’re just gonna pack you a lunch, kiss your forehead, and just send you off to hell?! Is that what you would for me?” you demanded. 

“No, but…” Dean started but Dad quickly cut him off. 

  
“Family don’t end with blood, boy! Besides. You need us,” he stated. 

“Bobby…”

“You’re playing wounded. Tell me, how many hallucinations have you had so far?” Dad asked. 

Sam looked at Dad, surprised, before looking at Dean who confirmed it with a nod. 

  
“How’d you know?” 

“Because that’s what happens when you’ve got hellhounds on your butt. And because I’m smart,” he said. 

“Not really hard to figure out, there Dean-O,” you said, patting him on the shoulder. 

Dad handed the boys back their distributor cap he had stolen from the impala. 

“We’ll follow,” he told them leaving no more room for argument.

* * *

You rode with your dad, following behind Dean. It was mostly quiet. You both weren’t exactly in the mood for conversation. You were trying to come to grips with the fact that after tonight...you might not have your big brother Dean around anymore. He had always been there for you when you needed him. Even when he was away, all you had to do was call him, and he would drop everything, even a case, for you. You had practically grown up with the Winchester boys. Their father would sometimes drop them off at your place when he went on a hunt that would take a long time. Your last name was Singer, but the Winchesters were family.

“Dad…” you finally broke the silence. “What if...what if we can’t save him?”

Your Dad glanced your way and sighed. 

“Listen, we’re gonna figure this out. One way or another….we’ll get through this, you hear me?” he said gruffly. “We’ll get through it together.”

You nodded, but deep down you felt fear clutch at you. Deep down, you knew you couldn’t save Dean.

You were right. 

* * *

  
  


Four Months Later

  
  


You took a deep breath before firing. The bullet hit dead center into the target, a rusted old car door you had spray painted. You unloaded 4 more rounds, each hitting their mark with precision. You sighed, setting the glock down on the hood of a broken down Ford. You picked up the sawed off shotgun and fired until it too clicked empty. 

  
You ought to feel successful after hitting your mark each time without fail, but the truth was you just felt more frustrated. You needed a job. It had been silent for a week now. Not even a whisper of a ghost or vampire to be found. Maybe you’d go visit Pamela. She always knew how to point you in the direction of trouble. Trouble is just what you needed. Anything to distract you for a while.

Your phone beeped in your pocket. It was the daily alarm you had set for noon. You sighed again before scrolling through your phone until you got to his name. You hit dial. Of course, he didn’t answer. He never did. 

“Damnit Sam,” you muttered before shoving your phone back into your pocket. 

You hadn’t heard from the younger Winchester in almost 2 months now. You were supposed to look after him, but damnit he hadn’t made it easy. He had changed after Dean’s death. He’d gotten cold and distant to you and your dad. You knew he needed time to grieve but you also needed to look after him. You had promised Dean. 

You gathered your guns and trudged your way back into the house where you found your father screaming into the phone. 

“Call again, and I’ll kill ya!” he shouted before slamming the phone down into the receiver. 

“Who was that? Rufus?” you asked, picking up a nearby bottle of Jack Daniels and taking a swig.

  
“Nah, just some idjit playin a prank,” he said gruffly. “Don’t drink all that, we’re almost out.”

“I’ll pick some more up later, if you promise to take a shower today. You’re starting to smell up the joint old man,” you teased. 

“Well excuse me for not lathering myself in Chanel Number 5,” he countered. 

“It’s called soap, Dad. Most people use it. Now could you please find me a job? I’m going a little stir crazy here.”

He rolled his eyes but started searching through some local newspapers, and you got to work cleaning your guns. This is how it had been these past few months. You’d make sure your dad didn’t drink himself into a coma, and he found jobs for you to keep you occupied. Sometimes, he’d join you on a hunt, especially if it seemed like a particularly dangerous one. Mostly, you liked to work alone. You loved your father more than anything, but sometimes he could be a bit overprotective. 

A pounding at the door made you look up from the sawed-off you were currently oiling. 

“That better not be Sheriff Mills again,” you shouted as he went to answer the door.

It got quiet, and then you heard a familiar sound reach your ears. Your heart stopped. You knew that voice.

  
Grabbing your glock, you rushed to the front door. You stopped in your tracks. Dean was standing in your doorway, fending off your father who was slashing at him with his silver knife.

“What the fuck?!” you shouted pointing your gun at Dean.

“Woah woah woah!” Dean shouted, holding a hand up. “Don’t shoot. It’s me! Your name is Robert Singer, and that’s your daughter (y/n) Singer! You both became hunters after your wife got possessed by a demon and tried to kill (y/n). You’re the closest thing I have to a father and a little sister. It’s really me.”

You lowered your gun, your heart pounding in your chest. Could it really be him? Or was this some kind of demon trick?

Dad placed a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder, as if he were daring to believe...before slashing at him again with his knife. You grabbed a jar of holy water you kept on the entryway table. 

“I’m not a shapeshifter!” Dean yelled, dodging Dad’s attack. Dean managed to wrestle the knife away.

“Then you’re a damn Revenant!” Dad yelled. “(Y/N) get out of here!”

“If I was either, could I do this?” Dean said before cutting himself with the silver blade. A line of blood appeared on his arm, but there was no bubbling or burning. 

You both gaped.

“Dean?” Dad whispered.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Dean said.

“Nice try, demon dick,” you spat, splashing him with the holy water. 

Nothing happened. Dean blinked water out of his eyes. 

“Holy shit….” you breathed. “Dean?”

“Hey, (y/n)” he said, using his nickname for you.

You rushed forwards, and he immediately engulfed you in a bone crushing hug. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes and then your father was hugging the pair of you. You breathed in his scent, a mix of pine and leather and sighed. Yes, it was definitely Dean. There was no mistaking that smell. 

“It’s good to see you boy,” Dad said as you broke away from each other.

“Yeah, you too,” he said smiling at the pair of you. “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, rubbing a hand through your shoulder length hair. “I guess I did. But come on, let’s get you a beer and you can tell us how in God’s name you escaped hell.”

* * *

A few hours later, you were riding with your dad and Dean, heading towards a motel that Sam was supposedly holed up in. You filled Dean in on what he had missed the past 4 months. 

“I tried to look after him, Dean,” you told him. “I followed him for a while, but he managed to shake me off. I’ve called him every day since then.”

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you,” Dean sighed. “Believe me, I know how damn stubborn he can be. What about you? What have you been doing?”

“Same old stuff really,” you shrugged. “Working jobs.”

“She never stops,” Dad piped up. “She’s not happy unless she’s got a case. Must have done more in the last 4 months than I have all year.”

“I needed the distraction,” you said softly. “After you were gone...it was hard to process anything else.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. “I wish you hadn’t seen me go out like that.”

“You’re back now, that’s all that matters,” you said quickly. 

“Yeah….the question is...how?”

* * *

  
  


After a touching albeit slightly murderous reunion, you sat with your dad and the Winchester boys in the motel room. Sam passed you a beer.

“This doesn’t make us square, Sam,” you said, accepting it. “You’re an asshole, you know that? I get you needed time to grieve, but you went 2 months without even sending me a goddamn text. I called you every single day, and you couldn’t answer even once? We were supposed to have each other’s backs.”

“I know… I should have called. I got wrapped up in my own thing…and… well I’m sorry,” he said, giving you puppy dog eyes. 

You glared harder. 

“Yeah what were you doing all this time?” Dean asked quickly, trying to diffuse the tension. 

“Well, after I figured out I couldn’t save you, I went after Lillith trying to get some payback,” he said. 

“All by yourself?” Dad asked angrily. “Who do you think you are, your old man?”

“Once again, a phone call is all it would have taken. You know I would have been here in an instant, ready to hunt the bitch down with you,” you said, throwing your hands in the air. 

“Yeah I know. I’m really sorry. I was pretty messed up after...everything,” he explained. “I really am sorry. I’ve missed you.”

You softened. 

“I missed you too, Sasquatch,” you said, pulling him into a hug. 

Sam was like your little brother. He was 2 years younger than you, so you always felt like you had to look after him, just like Dean did. Which was pretty ridiculous when you thought about it, seeing as he was over a foot taller than you.

After some more discussion, it was decided you’d visit Pamela to see if she could dig up anything from the other side. You called her to give her a heads up about the situation. About 4 hours later, you reached her house and she pulled you into a hug.

“There’s my favorite Singer!” she yelled cheerfully. “Sorry Bobby, but you’re daughter is much more fun than you are. And better looking.”

“Hey, you won’t hear me denying that,” Dad chuckled before hugging her. 

“And these must be the Winchester boys,” she said, eyeing them up and down appreciatively. “(Y/N), why haven’t you banged these guys yet?”

“Gross, Pam!” you shouted as the boys coughed uncomfortably. “They’re practically my brothers.”

“Well then they’re free game for me,” she said, shooting you a wink. 

You rolled your eyes before retreating into her house. Pamela was one of the biggest flirts you knew, except perhaps Dean. Come to think of it, maybe they’d be a good match, if they could ever stop trying to outflirt one another. 

Pam thought you were way too much of a prude. It wasn’t that you were opposed to the opposite sex, you just had way too many overprotective males in your life already. Anytime you had even entertained the thought of a romantic involvement with a guy, Dad, Dean, and Sam always swooped in and scared the living shit out of him before you had even had the chance to hit first base. 

Truthfully, all the men that had ever shown interest in you were...boring. After growing up in the life you had, you would think that boring would be exactly what you needed, but it was the just opposite for you. You wanted someone who amazed you, and you were a hard woman to impress. Maybe your standards were just too high. Oh well, you were better off alone anyways. 

* * *

A short while later you were all gathered around the table Pam performed her seances at. You were familiar with it. She once read your fortune for shits and giggles. She had proclaimed that one day you would meet your soulmate, and that she would be present for it. That had given you a laugh. You didn’t believe in that kind of thing, but you did know that Pam’s powers weren’t all baloney. She was actually quite a skilled psychic. She just liked to mess with you now and again. 

“Right, take each other’s hands,” she instructed. 

You took her hand in your left, and your father’s hand on your right. 

  
“And I’ll need to touch something our mystery monster touched,” she said seductively before lowering her other hand under the table. 

Dean jumped.

  
“Woah! Well he didn’t touch me there!” he exclaimed.

You laughed at the look on Dean’s face. Pam was going to eat him alive. 

Dean pulled up the sleeve on his arm, revealing a bright red brand in the shape of a large handprint. It looked as if someone had quite literally pulled him out of hell by his arm. 

“Okay, close your eyes,” Pam instructed. “I invoke, conjure, and command you, appear unto me before this circle.”

  
She repeated the invocation several times. Suddenly, you heard a whispering noise in your ears and you opened your eyes. The boys were looking around nervously, but they didn’t appear to hear anything. The voice grew louder and you could make out words.

“My name is Castiel. I must warn you, you must stop what you are attempting to do for your own well being,” it said in a deep, calm voice. 

“No, sorry Castiel. I don’t scare that easy,” Pam said smugly. 

“Castiel?” Dean asked.

“It’s name. He’s warning me to turn back,” she said.

  
“I can hear him too,” you told her, earning an astonished glance from Dean.

Pam ignored that and continued the invocation. 

“You must stop now,” the voice said a bit louder. 

The room began to rattle violently.

  
“Pam,” you warned her.

“Maybe we should stop,” Dad said uneasily.

“I almost got it!” she urged. “I command you, show me your face! Show me your face now!”

“I tried to warn you,” the voice said. “I am sorry.”

Suddenly, the candles flared and a white light shone from Pam’s eyes. The older woman began shouting in agony. She fell backwards and collapsed. You were at her side in an instant. 

“Oh god, my eyes!” she sobbed, revealing black empty sockets where her eyes used to be.

Castiel had burned her eyes out. 

* * *

Later that evening, you left the hospital after Pam was stable. You rode back with your father to the motel you were all staying in. You felt awful for your friend, and you felt partially responsible. You should have never asked her for help with this. 

“Stop,” your dad ordered.

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking that what happened to Pam was your fault,” he said.

“What, are you the psychic now?” you asked.

“No, I just know that look on your face. It’s your self loathing look. What happened to Pam wasn’t your fault. We didn’t know that was going to happen. If you want someone to blame, blame the thing that did it.”

“Except he even kept warning us to stop for our own safety,” you told him. “That’s another question, why were me and Pam the only ones who could understand it?”

“You got me,” Dad told you. “We still don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with. All we got is a name.”

“Maybe a name is all we need,” you said contemplatively, pulling into the motel parking lot. 

“For what?” 

You were about to respond but the voice filled your ears again. Your Dad must have heard it as the same high pitched sound that Dean did, but to you it was Castiel’s voice, calling out to Dean. 

The glass shattered in the Winchester’s room, and you both hopped out of the car and rushed in to find Dean clutching his head on the floor, his ears bleeding. 

“CASTIEL STOP!” you screamed out loud.

  
To your astonishment, the voice stopped abruptly.

“Huh...didn’t actually think that would work,” you breathed. You bent down to help Dean off the floor. “You alright?”

“I’ll live,” he said, a bit dazed. 

“Come on, we better get out of here before motel management busts in here,” Dad said.

“Wait, where’s Sam?” you asked, looking around for the taller brother.

“No friggin clue. I woke up and he was gone. And he took my car!” Dean shouted, noticing the impala was missing from the lot. 

“Come on, you can ride with us,” Dad said, and you all piled into his car. 

Dean began wiping the blood away from his ears. 

“How you doin kid?” Dad asked as he drove away from the motel. 

“Aside from the church bells ringing in my head, peachy,” Dean huffed before looking at you. “Could you understand what it said, back there?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly. “He kept saying your name and something like ‘hear me and respond.’”

“Oh I’m gonna respond alright,” Dean huffed before fishing out his phone. 

You gave Dean a look as he lied to Sam saying the three of you were off to get a beer. 

“What the hell was that about?” you asked when he hung up.

  
“He can’t know what we’re really going to do. He’d try to stop us,” Dean said simply.

“From what?” Dad asked.

“You wanna summon him,” you said slowly. 

“It’s time we face him head on,” Dean agreed. 

“You can’t be serious!” Dad exclaimed. 

“As a heart attack,” Dean replied. “It’s high noon baby.”

“We do have his name. And something he’s touched. That’s all we really need to summon him to us,” you said.

After some more arguing, your dad finally agreed but only if you were to take some serious precautions. You found an abandoned warehouse a few miles outside of town and you went to work helping your dad spray paint every symbol, devil’s trap, and talisman you knew of. 

Once that was complete, you began preparing your weapons. You had your normal glock on you, as well as a silver knife tucked into your boot. You also donned a machete which you had strapped to your side with a holster. There were a couple of bottles of holy water and salt pouches in your pockets as well just in case. 

“How we doing?” Dean asked as he and Dad joined you at the table. You had laid out everything you needed to summon Castiel to you.

“Managed to get everything we need to summon him here,” you said. “You both ready?”

“I still think this is a bad idea,” dad grumbled.

  
“Yeah Bobby, I heard you the first 10 times,” Dean sighed. “What do you say we ring the dinner bell?”

Dad sighed but nodded. He walked over to the table and began the ritual. He chanted in Latin and mixed the powders together and it immediately began to smoke. You gripped your gun tighter expecting Castiel to burst in the room at any second...but it was quiet as your father finished his chant. 

“So…..where is he?” Dean asked.

“It could take a little while for him to get here,” your dad explained. “We don’t even know where he’s coming from.”

  
“Great..so we just sit here until he decides to show?”

“Unless you brought some playing cards,” you sighed, taking a seat on the table. 

* * *

About half an hour later and Dean was getting antsy. 

“You sure you did the ritual right?” he asked.

Dad gave him a look that said “are you shitting me?”

“Sorry, touchy touchy, huh?” Dean said holding his arms up. 

Suddenly, the roof began shaking. You shared a look with the other men, then instantly got into position. The door burst open, tearing off its hinges and a figure strode in. It was a man, about 6 feet tall, dressed in a suit and a long tan trench coat. He was incredibly handsome, with a chiseled jawline that was graced with a 5 o’clock shadow. His hair was short and dark, styled but in a way that was vaguely unkempt. What stood out to you was his eyes. They were the brightest shade of blue you had ever seen and for a moment, you could have sworn you saw a light shining from behind them. 

As he approached, lightbulbs above him began to burst, showering him in golden sparks. You could have sworn you saw the shadow of wings behind him. Dad and Dean began shooting at him, but the bullets did nothing to slow him down. They didn’t even phase him. Dean pulled out the demon knife as the man slowed to a stop before him. 

“Who are you?” Dean demanded. 

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” Castiel said softly in that deep voice you had heard before. 

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dean said sarcastically, before plunging the magic knife into Castiel’s chest. 

Castiel looked down at it for a moment, before pulling it out and dropping it to the floor. Dad attacked next, but the intruder simply touched his fingers to his forehead and he crumpled to the floor unconscious. 

“Dad!” you screamed. 

Attractive or not, the fucker would pay for that. You drew your machete and swung up towards his neck. Let’s see how a nice decapitation would phase him. Unfortunately, he saw it coming. He grabbed your arm before your blade could make contact. The instant his skin touched yours, a searing pain shot through you. You screamed in pain, and dropped your machete. 

You noticed as you clutched your injured arm to you that Castiel gave you a confused look, like he hadn’t meant to hurt you. 

“Sleep,” he said softly before touching your own forehead and your world went black.


	2. The Rising of the Witnesses

You scratched at the brand on the inside of your forearm for the hundredth time. It was a beautiful mark, once you got past the searing pain it had caused and the subsequent itching as it healed. At least it was going to make a pretty scar. It was a series of strange symbols, almost like letters written in a language you didn’t know. You sighed and grabbed the neosporin before leaving the bathroom, making your way towards the surly men in your life. Big surprise, Dean and Sam were arguing. 

“Okay, okay. That's the point. We don't know for sure, so I'm not gonna believe that this thing is a freaking Angel of the Lord because it says so!” Dean was shouting. 

“Well whatever he is, he owes me a drink,” you said, smearing the ointment onto the mark.

“How you holdin’ up?” Dad asked, over his stack of books. 

“It’s healing...but it’s definitely gonna scar. Any luck finding what the symbols mean?”

“Not yet, but I did find this….stacks of lore. Biblical, pre-Biblical. Some of it's in damn cuneiform. It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit,” he said showing you an extremely old book.

“What else could do it?” Dean asked. 

“What, airlift your ass out of the hot box? As far as I can tell, nothing,” Dad shook his head. 

“Dean this is good news,” Sam said. “For once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?”

“Well if he is an angel, he definitely has some ‘splaining to do,” you said, putting on a Ricky Ricardo accent. 

“Okay. Say it's true. Say there are angels. Then what? There's a God?” Dean asked incredulously. 

“I’m gonna say yeah. I mean we know there are demons...it’s only logical to assume if one side exists, then the other side does too,” you replied with a shrug. 

“I dunno. I’m not buying it. Look, if there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?” Dean asked with disbelief. “I mean, I've saved some people, okay? I figured that made up for the stealing and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy.”

“Well you know what, if you ever get to meet the Almighty, then you can ask him yourself,” you told him. “For now, it’s time to start figuring out what’s going on now and what we’re really up against.”

“Start reading,” Dad said, passing you both books. 

* * *

Dean made Sam go on a pie run, and the two of you began leafing through old tomes. You started delving into a book that was written in Latin. Translating it was a pain but you learned that the host of heaven was made up of thousands of angels. They were all pictured with wings, and you thought back to that night when you had glimpsed the shadow of wings behind Castiel. Perhaps their wings were invisible to the human eye? You kept flipping through the tome, until a certain page stopped you. There were strange symbols, reportedly enochian, drawn on the page. A couple of the symbols matched the brand on your arm.

“Look at this,” you said, shoving the book at Dean. 

You showed him your arm beside the book. 

“A couple of these symbols match,” you explained. “This brand is written in enochian.”

“Huh...any idea what it says?” he asked, looking back and forth between the symbols. 

“Not a clue. I have no idea how to translate enochian,” you said. “But it proves that Castiel must be an angel. Enochian is the language of angels, Dean.”

“Yeah, maybe. I just have a hard time wrapping my head around all this,” he sighed. 

“Yeah, you and me both. But I’ll tell you what, of all the crazy monsters it could have been...I gotta say we lucked out with Angels. Even if our angel has a brand kink, I’m with Sam on this one. This is a win for us.”

“Brand kink?” Dean asked with a smile.

“Well he branded you and me with a touch, but not Dad,” you laughed. “At least he has good taste.”

“We got a situation,” Dad said entering the room with the phone in his hand. “I can’t get a hold of Olivia.”

* * *

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you shouted scrambling desperately to find something made of iron. 

You grabbed a crowbar you kept by the back door and whirled around. There he was, standing before you with a look of utter hatred on his face.  
  
“You’re so pathetic,” he sneered. “You go around trying to protect people, when the truth is people need to be protected _from_ you. 

“I’m really sorry about what happened, Ian,” you said, backing away slowly. “Really, I tried to get there in time.”

“You should have tried harder!” Ian roared, picking you up by the throat. 

You swung the iron crowbar at him but he slammed you against the wall, causing you to drop it. 

“You let that vamp drain me like a juice box. You didn’t even try to stop him,” he growled, lifting you off the floor. 

You sputtered and gasped for breath, but his grip was too tight. 

“I’m….sorry,” you breathed. 

“You will be,” he whispered with glee. 

“Hey douchebag!” Dean roared, suddenly appearing. 

He fired a round of rock salt into Ian who roared and disappeared. You fell to the floor, gasping for air.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Dean said rushing to your side. “Come on.”

He helped you to your feet, and managed to help you into the study where Dad and Sam were. 

  
“Shit, are you okay, sweetheart?” Dad asked, rushing to your side. He helped you take a seat on the couch. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you waved him off. “Just gotta catch my breath. What the fuck is goin on?”

“Looks like we’re all being haunted,” Dean said.

“By people we all knew?” Sam guessed. 

“Not just know. People we couldn't save. Hey, I saw something on Meg. Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?” Dean asked. 

“I don't think so,” Sam replied, his brow furrowed. 

“It was like a uh...a mark on her hand -- almost like a brand,” Dean went on.

“I saw a mark on Ian too,” you told them. 

“Same on Henrikson,” Sam confirmed. 

“What did it look like?” Dad asked. 

Sam drew a quick sketch of the mark, and showed it to you.

  
“Yeah, that’s what I saw too,” you told him. 

“I may have seen this before. But we gotta move,” Dad said. 

You all followed him down to the basement, down to the safe room you had helped build. Sam and Dean looked around impressed with the setup. 

“Bobby...this is…” Sam began in awe. 

“Solid iron. Completely soaked in salt. 100% ghost proof,” Dad told him, guestering to the door. 

“You built a panic room?” Sam asked. 

“ _We_ built a panic room,” you corrected him. “You know, a little father-daughter home improvement project.”

“We had a weekend off,” Dad shrugged. 

“You guys are awesome,” Dean said with a smile. 

* * *

  
  


It had been a rough fight, but you had all managed to get rid of the Witnesses. You had helped patch the others up before heading to your room to pass out. You had shut your eyes for only a few seconds when you felt someone in the room with you.

  
Your eyes shot open and you reached for the knife you kept beside your bed. You held it out defensively to see Castiel was standing at the end of your bed. 

“Calm down, I’m not here to hurt you,” he said in that low voice of his. 

“Right. After what happened last time, you’ll have to forgive me for not believing you,” you scoffed. 

“Last time?” Castiel asked, a puzzled look upon his face.

“Yeah. When you laid hands on me and gave me this lovely parting gift?” you held up your arm, showing him the brand. “Ringing any bells?”

“This...This is not something I caused intentionally,” he replied, staring at your arm in bewilderment. 

“What so it was an accident?”

“I’ve never heard of this happening before,” he said, sounding troubled. “I’m not sure why it occurred. I am sorry. I never meant to cause you physical pain.”

He looked at you with sincerity in his gaze. There was something about him...a feeling you had deep within that told you he was being genuine.

“Alright, I’ll forgive you for this,” you said shaking your arm at him. “But not for burning my friend’s eyes out.”

“That was a mistake. I tried to warn her...humans cannot gaze upon my true form without...repercussions,” he said uncomfortably. 

  
“Repercussions,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Same with the voice I assume?”

“Yes, only a select few can understand an angel’s true voice. Usually prophets,” he said.

“Are you saying that I’m….” you began in shock.

  
“No. You’re not a prophet. I’m not sure why you were able to hear me. You are...an enigma,” he said slowly, looking at you like you were a most interesting science experiment. 

“Great…” you breathed. “So...I’m assuming you’re here for a reason.”

  
“Yes, I came to warn you of what is to come,” Castiel said. 

  
“You mean the apocalypse?” you asked in a small voice. “Is...is it really happening?”

“It will if we don’t stop it,” he said. “The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals. If all 66 seals break, a door opens and Lucifer will rise, ushering in the apocalypse.”

“Woah....Lucifer...like Satan?” you asked, your eyes wide.

“Yes. For the first time since the beginning of time, Heaven needs help from humanity. You will have a part to play in this, though what it will be I cannot say for sure,” he told you.

You gaped at him.

  
“I’m...I’m sorry. I’m still trying to process that A. I’m in my pajamas and I’m talking to an angel, B. Satan is trying to bust out of jail, and C. I have to help stop the apocalypse,” you said, running a hand through your hair.

“I understand it’s a lot to take in,” he said, nodding. “I will give you time.”

He turned to go, but you grabbed his hand before he could vanish.

A shiver ran through you as your skin made contact, but there was no searing pain this time. 

“Huh,” you muttered. “Before you go, can you tell me what it says? The brand.”

He looked at you for a moment, that puzzled expression once again racing across his handsome features. 

“My name,” he finally said. “It says ‘Castiel’”

He vanished before you could respond, leaving you alone in your bedroom. You turned your arm up so you could see the mark. You traced the letters with your finger tips, admiring the foreign shapes. Admiring his name on your skin.


	3. Guardian Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter before we get to all the fun of Samhain. Hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 3

You sighed, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You were covered in blood, which wasn’t an unusual occurrence for you. Still, seeing your hair coated in werewolf guts made your stomach turn. You stripped off your shirt, throwing it in the trash can. You made a mental note to throw the trash in the dumpster before you checked out. Didn’t need to freak out any poor maids with blood soaked garments. Your phone rang, cutting through the silence. Seeing it was Dean, you answered it immediately. 

“Hey Dean, what’s up?” you asked into the phone.

“Hey...where are you?” he asked. He sounded distressed. 

“Uh..at a motel a couple hours outside of Elkhart, Indiana. What’s going on?” 

“What are you doing out there?” he said avoiding the question.

“Werewolf. Just finished up actually,” you said. 

“Oh yeah? Bobby there with you?”

“Nah, it’s just me,” you told him, wetting some toilet paper and wiping your face off.

“You hunted a werewolf alone?” he sounded angry.

“Dude...I’ve been hunting by myself for years,” you said, trying not to sound annoyed. “Save that overprotective shit for Sam.”

“Yeah yeah, Miss Independent…” he growled. 

“Now...you gonna tell me why you really called? What’s goin on?”

He sighed and proceeded to tell you about his little trip back to 1973 and how his mom had made a deal with yellow-eyes, thus starting a chain reaction which ended in Sam being infected with demon blood. Then he explained how Castiel had warned him to stop the dangerous road Sam was on and the fight he and Sam got into afterwards.

“I mean….I don’t know what to do here (y/n). He’s buddies with a friggin demon! He’s exorcising demons with his mind!”

“Jesus,” you breathed. “Ok, first things first...we need to gank that demon bitch.”

“I was going to, but Sam stopped me. He protected her...a demon! He’s lost his fucking mind!”

“Calm down, Dean. I get this is bad but we need to take a step back here. If you come at him guns blazing, fists raised... he’s just gonna fight you harder,” you said, taking a seat on the edge of the tub. 

You heard Dean sigh. “You know I’m right. So have you told Sam that the angels have told you that he needs to stop?”

“Not yet. I was so mad I had to get out of there. I’m out driving around right now, trying to get my thoughts straight,” Dean said.

“Well there’s your first step. I mean, Sam is all for Team Angel and God. You tell him that even Heaven isn’t on board with his psychic mojo, he’s gotta stop,” you said. 

“Yeah, maybe. I just don’t know anymore. Who knows what Ruby’s been filling his head with these past few months,” Dean said, his voice filled with despair. 

“We’re gonna figure this out okay? Just try ta-HOLY SHIT!”

You had been staring down at the ugly broken tiles of the bathroom floor. You had heard a woosh of wings and glanced up to see someone standing in front of you. Your heart skipped several beats and you jumped up before your brain processed that it was Castiel. 

“(Y/N)?! What’s going on?! (Y/N)!” Dean called through the phone.

“Oh...it’s...it’s ok Dean. Castiel just...ya know surprised me,” you said, placing a hand on your chest trying to steady your heartbeat. 

“What the hell is he doing there?” Dean asked grouchily. 

“I dunno, I’ll call you back later,” you told him, hanging up the phone before he could protest. 

“Jesus, Cas, a little warning next time. You scared the hell out of me,” you told him. 

“My apologies. I did not mean to frighten you,” he said in his normal gruff voice. 

“It’s fine…just knock or something next time,” you said. 

His eyes wandered over you and you blushed, realizing you were standing in the small bathroom alone with him...wearing only a bra and jeans. You grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around your chest. You walked out into the motel room and he followed you. 

“Are you injured?” he asked, staring at all the blood.

“Oh...no. Well, no more than normal. This is all from a werewolf,” you told him. 

“I see. Do you often hunt on your own?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Now you sound like Dean,” you laughed. “Yes, Cas. I hunt on my own all the time.”

“You keep calling me Cas,” he stated, cocking his head to the side. 

“Oh....yeah. I guess I gave you a nickname. Do you mind?” you asked. 

“No,” he said simply. 

“Ooookay. Cas it is then. So Cas...what can I do for you?” you asked.

“I have...information, regarding the brand,” he said slowly. “No one in Heaven could tell me what it means. To my knowledge, it has never happened before. Even my superiors were perplexed. A mark like this...it must have come from the top.”

“The top?” you asked. “You mean...like all the way from the top?”

“Yes. From God himself,” he nodded. 

“Woah...but...why?” you asked breathlessly. “What does he want from me?”

“Our best guess is that he wants me to protect you. A mark like that...it signifies a sort of ownership,” Cas explained.

  
“Excuse me?” you snapped. “Sorry, bud, but angel or not, no one owns me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that...I meant that I am responsible for you. That He wants me to keep you safe,” he told you. 

“So...God wants you to be my guardian angel?” you joked halfheartedly, trying to take it all in.

“In a sense, yes. At least, that is our best guess,” he said. “I’m still trying to find out more, but it is difficult. As I said, this has never happened before.”

“Why can’t you just ask the big man himself what it means?” you asked.

“I can’t. Only a very select few have ever actually interacted with God.”

“You mean…you’ve never met him?” you asked, eyes wide.

“No. There is a chain of command. I get my orders elsewhere,” he told you. 

“Ok...well maybe put in a request to the next angel who does have a meeting with the CEO upstairs. Just to... you know, clarify that this isn’t an omen that you’re supposed to smite me or something,” you said waving the brand at him.

“If God wanted you dead, we would know by now,” he said cryptically. “This is something else. Something new.”

“Well...thanks for having my back. If I ever get into a pickle I can’t get myself out of, I’ll give you a call I guess. Wait...do angels have cell phones?”

“We do not. If you ever need to reach me, all you have to do is pray for me,” he said. 

“Huh...so just...close my eyes and...just pray?”

“Yes. I will hear you and I will come as quickly as I can,” he promised.

“Got it,” you said, nodding. 

“I mean it. I am responsible for your well being now. I will not let you get hurt. Anytime you need me, I will be there,” he told you, an intensity burning in his crystal blue eyes. 

“Ok, Cas. I promise I’ll call you if I need you,” you said in a small voice, your stomach twisting at the intense look he was giving you. 

“Thank you. I have to get back to Heaven now,” he said.

“And I...have to wash werewolf guts off me,” you said looking down at the now crimson stained towel. 

Cas reached out and grabbed your hand. You felt a warmth spread across you, and suddenly your skin was clean, not a speck of ick left behind. 

“Wow….thank you,” you breathed, smiling widely at him. “You just saved me an hour of serious scrubbing.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice low. He turned your arm over and stared at the brand. Without a word, he reached out and began tracing the now healed scars with his finger tips. You shivered as a wave of pleasure shooted through you. His fingers stopped and his eyes lifted to meet your gaze.

“Be safe,” he nearly whispered, and then he vanished. 

You stood there alone in the motel room. Your skin was broken out in goosebumps and your heartbeat was erratic again. 

“What the hell was that?” you breathed aloud. 


	4. Samhain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter! Hunting with the bros, and some shared wisdom with Cas. Good news is I have the entire story planned out now! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 4  
  


“Hey, (y/n), what’s up?” Dean asked through the phone.

“Hey Dean. How you feeling?” you asked.

“Uh...fine?” he answered in a confused tone. “Why?”

“Just checking to make sure you’re still not scared of your own shadow,” you teased, holding back a laugh.

“Oh...for fucks sake. How long are the ghost sickness jokes gonna last?” he asked, clearly annoyed. 

“For as long as it’s funny...which it still is,” you laughed. “But seriously, you up for a case?”

“Whatcha got?”

“Well...A guy choked on 4 razor blades after eating Halloween candy. I interviewed the police and the wife and well...I found a hex bag,” you told him, driving back to the motel room you had been staying at. 

“Shit...you thinking witches?” Dean asked. 

“Looks that way,” you replied. “I don’t fuck around with witches. Not after...well let’s just say I’ve gone the wrong way with witches in the past. I could use the backup.”

“Sure. Sam and I can be there in an hour or so,” Dean said.

You told him the name and address of the motel you were camped up in. 

“Thanks Dean,” you said. “I owe you one.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said. “You’ve helped us out on plenty of cases. It’s what family does. We look out for each other.”

“Aww, I love you too Deanie Weenie,” you said in a horrible baby voice.

“Yuck, maybe we won’t help,” he groaned. 

  
“Ha ha,” you said in a flat voice. “See you soon.”

* * *

A short time later, you and Sam were delving into some of the books you had spread out in your motel room. Sam began poking through the hex bag you had found, and Dean was munching on Halloween candy.

“Really? After that guy choked down all those razor blades?” Sam asked his brother incredulously.

“It’s Halloween man,” Dean said reasonably. 

“Yeah, for us every day is Halloween,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Oh damn, I forgot to get a costume,” you said suddenly. 

“You still dress up?” Dean asked with a smile.

“Sure I do. It’s fun. When do I ever get the chance to dress up in anything other than flannel or a fake FBI outfit,” you replied. “Maybe I can still pick up something.”

“Just don’t go as anything slutty, or I’ll be kickin douchebags asses all night,” Dean said popping another candy into his mouth. “Then again, I don’t have to worry about that kind of thing anymore do I? Now that you have your own private guardian angel.”

“Pretty sure protecting me from horny assholes isn’t a part of his job description,” you said rolling your eyes. 

“It damn sure better be,” Dean said seriously. 

“Okay, moving on,” Sam piped up. “Look what I found inside this hexbag.”

He pointed at a tray filled with the contents of the bag you had found. He picked up a withered flower.

“Goldthread, an herb that’s been extinct for two hundred years. And this,” he continued, picking up a silver coin. “This is Celtic, and I don’t mean some new age knock-off. It looks like the real deal, like 600 years old real.”

Dean picked up a charred bone and sniffed it. 

“And um… that is the charred metacarpal bone of a newborn baby,” Sam said with a grimace. 

“Oh dude, that is so sick,” you huffed. “Why would you sniff that?”

“Well I didn’t know what it was!” Dean said defensively, throwing the bone back on the tray with disgust.

“Relax, it's at least a hundred years old,” Sam said. 

“That doesn’t make it any better,” you said pointedly.

“Ugh, witches man. They’re so freakin skeevy,” Dean growled. 

“Yeah, well it takes a pretty powerful one to put a bag like this together. More juice than we’ve ever dealt with, that’s for sure. What about you, (Y/N)? What did you find on the victim?” Sam asked.

“Nada,” you replied with a sigh. “He lived a perfect whitebread, cookie cutter life. Definitely not the type to get involved with any sort of cult or anything nasty.”

“Well...let’s keep at it,” Dean said, popping another candy into his mouth. 

“Dude...you didn’t wash your hands,” you said in disgust.

Dean stopped mid chew, thought about it a bit...then continued chewing and swallowed. You just shook your head at him. 

* * *

The witch struck again. This time her victim was a high school girl and the hex bag had boiled her alive while she bobbed for apples. Sam had found the hex bag under a nearby sofa. The three of you were once again holed up in the motel room, digging for answers. 

“So what links the victims? There’s gotta be something. It can’t be random,” you said frustratedly. 

“I’m telling you, both these vics are squeaky clean. There is no reason for a wicked bitch payback,” Dean said.

“Maybe this witch isn’t working a grudge, maybe they’re working a spell. Check this out,” Sam said, pushing a book towards you. 

“Three blood sacrifices over three days, the last before midnight on the final day of the final harvest. Celtic Calendar, the final day of the final harvest is October 31st,” Sam said.

You glanced over the page and your eyes widened. 

  
“So the witch is trying to summon Samhain?” you asked. 

  
“Who?” Dean asked.

“Dean, Samhain is the damn origin of Halloween. The Celts believe that October 31st was the one night of the year when the veil was the thinnest between the living and the dead, and it was Samhain’s night. I mean, masks were put on to hide from him, sweets left on doorsteps to appease him, faces carved into pumpkins to worship him. He was exorcised centuries ago,” Sam explained. 

“The traditions have changed over the years. Now it's a night about costumes and candy,” you said. 

“So some witch wants to raise Samhain and what...take back the night?” Dean asked, unconvinced. 

“This is serious Dean,” Sam urged. “We’re talking heavyweight witchcraft. This ritual can only be performed every six hundred years, and guess what tomorrow is.”

“Let me guess...tomorrow is the 600th year?” Dean sighed. 

“Bingo,” Sam said.

  
“It says here that once raised, Samhain will do a little raising of his own,” you said, reading from the book. 

“Meaning?” Dean asked. 

  
“Meaning ghouls, zombies, ghosts...you name it. Everything we spend our lives putting in the ground, he’s gonna raise for funsies,” you said seriously.

“It’s gonna be a fucking slaughterhouse,” Dean breathed, his eyes wide. 

* * *

After some more detective work, you all found out that Tracy, the hot cheerleader was your witch. You had searched for her but had come up empty as did Sam and Dean. You all headed back to the motel to reconvene and plan your next step. Sam got the fright of his life when you entered to see your motel room was already occupied by Cas.

“Who are you!? Sam shouted, raising his gun.

“Woah, Sam! It’s ok, it’s just Castiel,” you said quickly, placing a hand on Sam’s gun and lowering it. 

“Him, I don’t know,” Dean said, spotting the tall dark skinned man beside Cas, staring out the window.

“Hey, Cas,” you said, shooting the angel a smile. “I don’t think you’ve met Sam yet.”

“Hello, Sam,” Cas said formerly. 

“Oh my God – er – uh – I didn’t mean to – sorry. It’s an honor, really, I – I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sam said excitedly, stumbling over his words. 

Sam reached out to shake Cas’s hand and Cas kind of stared at it as if he wasn’t sure of what to do with it. You bit back a laugh. 

“And I, you. Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood. Glad to see you’ve ceased your extracurricular activities,” Cas said evenly.

“Let’s keep it that way,” said the man by the window. 

“Yeah, okay chuckles,” Dean said. “Who’s your friend, Cas?”

Cas ignored him and turned to you.    
  
“The raising of Samhain, have you stopped it?” he asked, his eyes almost pleading with you. Immediately, you got the sense that he was trying to tell you something was wrong. 

“We’re working on it,” you said slowly. 

“Have you located the witch?” he urged.

“Yes, we’ve located the witch,” Dean huffed. 

“And is the witch dead?” Cas continued.

“Not yet. We’re still getting to that part. But we know who she is,” you told him. 

“Apparently the witch knows who you are too,” Cas said, walking over to the bed and picking up a small bag. “This was inside the wall of your room. If we hadn’t found it, surely one or all of you would be dead. Do you know where the witch is now?”

“We’re working on it,” Dean said awkwardly.

  
“That is unfortunate,” Cas said with a sigh.

“What do you care anyways?” Dean asked.

“The raising of Samhain is one of the 66 seals,” Cas explained. 

“So this is about your buddy Lucifer,” Dean said. 

“Lucifer is no friend of ours,” said the dark skinned man. 

“It was a joke,” Dean muttered.    
  
“Understand, Lucifer cannot rise. The breaking of the seal must be prevented at all costs,” Castiel urged. 

“Okay, great, well now that you’re here, why don’t you tell us where the witch is, we’ll gank her and everybody goes home,” Dean said with a shrug. 

“We are not omniscient. This witch is very powerful, she’s cloaked even our methods,” Cas sighed.

“Ok, well give us a couple of hours. We’ll find her and -” you began but the stranger cut you off.    
  
“Enough of this,” he said, silencing you.

“Okay, who are you and why should we care?” Dean asked, annoyed at the man.

The stranger gave Dean a death glare.    
  
“This is Urial,” Cas introduced him. “He’s what you might call a...specialist.”

“What kind of specialist? What are you gonna do?” Dean asked. 

“You all need to leave this town immediately,” Cas said, avoiding your gaze. 

“Why?” you asked, staring at the angel.

  
“Because...we’re about to destroy it.”

“Come again?” Dean asked angrily. “So what? You’re gonna just smite the whole friggin town to get rid of one witch?”

“We’re out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved,” Cas said.

“What about the people in this town?” you asked him incredulously. “You can’t just kill them all!”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve purified a city,” Urial said smugly.

“I understand this is regrettable,” Cas said slowly.

“Regrettable? Try downright wrong! You can’t just murder a thousand innocent people!” You exclaimed, your voice growing louder. 

“We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already,” Cas said. 

“So you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?!” Dean roared. 

“It’s the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion. There’s a bigger picture here,” Cas pleaded. 

“That’s bullshit Cas. Are you telling me that this honestly feels like the right thing to do? I can see it in your eyes. You know this is wrong,” you said fiercely. 

“Lucifer cannot rise. He does and hell rises with him. Is that something that you’re willing to risk?” he asked you.

“We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone. Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die,” Sam begged. 

“We're wasting time with these mud monkeys,” Urial sneered. 

“I’m sorry. I really am…. But we have our orders,” Cas said turning away.

“And where did these orders come from? Somehow, I don’t think God would be okay with murdering innocent people,” you declared angrily. 

“Haven’t you heard of the plagues of egypt?” Urial said with a condescending tone. “God kills indiscriminately.”

“What and you just follow orders blindly, without question?” Dean asked. 

“Tell me something, Dean, when your father gave you an order, didn’t you obey?” Cas asked him.

“Well sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed,” Dean said, shaking his head. 

“You think you can stop us?” Urial asked with a smile.

“No, but if you’re gonna smite this whole town, then you’re gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I’m worth something to the man upstairs. And Cas, you’re responsible for keeping (y/n) safe right?” Dean asked.

“Yeah I’m not going anywhere,” You stated, catching onto Dean’s trail of thought. 

  
“See? You wanna smite the town? Go ahead. But you’ll be smiting us with it.”

“We will drag you out of here ourselves,” Urial spat. 

“Please Cas,” you begged, staring desperately at your guardian. “Please. At least give us a chance. We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning.”

“Castiel! I will not let these peop–” Urial began outraged. 

“Enough!” Cas yelled, cutting him off. 

Castiel stared between you and Dean and sighed. 

“I suggest you move quickly,” he told Dean before vanishing with Urial. 

* * *

After figuring out that “call me Don” was the witch afterall, the three of you headed towards his house. Sure enough, by the time you got there, Don was seconds away from plunging a knife into Tracy’s heart. Dean was quick to fire three shots directly into his back. He fell to the ground, lifeless. 

You rushed over to untie the teenager. She ripped the gag out of her mouth.

“Thank you, he was gonna kill me! Ugh, that sick son of a bitch. I mean, did you see what he was doing? Did you hear him? How sloppy his incantation was?” she scoffed.

You and Dean paused, looking at each other with wide eyes. Tracy lifted her hands and shouted an incantation. The three of you flew backwards and hit the ground painfully. A horrible pain twisted in your stomach, and you writhed on the floor in agony. 

“My brother always was a little dim,” Tracy said, nudging Don’s body with her foot. “ He was gonna make me the final sacrifice, his idea, but now, that honor goes to him. Our master’s return? The spellwork’s a two man job you understand, so for six hundred years I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch. Planning, preparing, unbearable.”

She knelt down and grabbed the knife and the chalice Don had dropped. 

“The whole time I wanted to rip his face off,” she sighed, plunging the knife into Don, and collecting his blood in the chalice. “You know, back in the day, this was the one day you kept your children inside. Well tonight you’ll all see what Halloween really is.”

Tracy began chanting an incantation. You tried to reach for your gun but you were paralyzed by the pain. 

“ _ Cas! We need you here! Samhain is about to be raised!” _ you tried praying fervently. 

Nothing happened. Tracy was nearing the end of her incantation. The lights began to flicker and the atmosphere began to shake. 

“Here,” Sam gasped through the pain, smearing Don’s blood on your face. 

“What?”

  
“Just follow my lead,” Sam urged. “Lie still.”   
  
A crack opened up in the floor and thick black smoke poured out of it, directly into the lifeless body of Don. Samhain had risen.

* * *

“Ok, that was disgusting,” you said from the backseat of the impala, wiping Don’s blood from your face. 

“Yeah, but it worked,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, and thanks for that. But still….gross,” you muttered. 

“So where the hell we gonna find this mook?” Dean asked from the drivers seat. 

“Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?” Sam asked rhetorically. 

“Cemetery,” you and Dean said at the same time. 

“So, this demon’s pretty powerful,” Sam began. “Might take more than the usual weapons.”

“Sam, don’t you dare,” you warned him. “You heard what the angels said. You can’t keep using your powers.”

“Yeah, well, after meeting them I’m kinda thinking maybe they’re wrong,” Sam shrugged. 

“Well then forget the angels, okay? You said yourself, these powers, it’s like playing with fire,” Dean said fiercely. 

“Seriously, Sam,” you said again. “Don’t do it.”

  
  


* * *

Sam had used his powers, even after all the warnings he’d received. Sure he’d gotten rid of Samhain, but at what cost? You weren’t sure why the angels didn’t like him using his powers, but you could tell they had good reasons. When you observed him exorcising Samhain with his mind, everything inside you screamed WRONG. Somehow you knew, that whatever Sam was doing….it wasn’t gonna turn out pretty for him in the end. 

You had said goodbye to Sam and Dean fairly quickly after everything was said and done, not wanting to linger. You could practically feel the tension between the brothers, and you didn’t feel up to another round of family therapy. 

You took off in your car feeling victorious that the town was saved, but also guilty the seal had been broken. You had promised Cas that you would stop it, and you failed. 

“You left before I had a chance to speak with you,” Cas said, suddenly appearing in your passenger seat.

You were lucky you didn’t crash into the ditch.

“Shit! Cas! I gotta attach a bell to you or something,” you gasped, steadying the car. 

  
“I apologize. I meant to speak with you after I spoke with Dean but you already left town,” Cas said. 

“Yeah… I wasn’t feeling up to another family feud today,” you told him. “Listen Cas, I’m sorry. We failed. I thought we could stop it...but the seal was broken and it’s my fault.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Cas said sternly. “It was not your fault. You did everything you could and you fought bravely. I actually came here to apologize to you.”

“For what?” you asked. 

“Several things. For not coming to your aid when you called. The witch’s cloaking powers were too great. I was unable to locate you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” you nodded. “I kind of figured that’s what happened.”

“I also want you to know...my true orders were not to smite the town but to follow Dean’s lead. It was a test for Dean...I was praying he would choose to save the town,” he continued. 

“So...would you have destroyed the town if we had left?” you asked slowly. 

He was silent for a moment. 

“I...don’t know,” Cas replied. “And honestly...that concerns me. I should follow my orders without question, but lately...I’ve been questioning everything. The things they tell me to do seem wrong. The only order that feels right is you.”

“So...angels aren’t supposed to have a mind of their own? You can’t have opinions or various stances on morality? You’re expected to be a drone?” you asked him, brows furrowed.

  
“We are expected to follow the word of God without question,” he said. 

“How sure are you that what you are hearing is the word of God?” you asked him. 

Again, he remained silent for several minutes. 

“I’m honestly not sure anymore,” he said, sounding conflicted. “Lately...the only order I’m absolutely sure came from God is you.”

“How can you be sure this was from God?” you asked, rubbing the mark on your arm. 

“I can feel it,” he assured you. 

You glanced at him, and his expression was conflicted and disheartened. 

  
“Listen...I have no idea on how things work in Heaven or who’s calling the shots...but what I do believe is that God gave us free will...all of us. Angels included. And maybe that was for a reason.”

“What reason?” he asked.

You laughed. 

  
“Well, I guess that’s something we all have to figure out on our own,” you told him. “Free will means being able to make your own choices, but also, dealing with the consequences. Sometimes you’ll make the wrong choices, god knows I have. But hopefully you learn from them. That’s how you grow.”

“You are remarkably wise for your age,” Cas said. 

“Well, thanks,” you smiled. “I owe it to my father and a semi-traumatic life.”

“Without suffering, there can be no wisdom,” Cas nodded.

“Now who’s the wise one?” you laughed.

He smiled, and your heart skipped a beat. 


	5. Anna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who continue to read!

Chapter 5 

It was one of those rare times where you had the house to yourself. You had just finished with a job right after your father left for a case in the Dominican. There was a foglet terrorising a village, and your dad also decided he could use the sun. You returned home alone, ready to enjoy some R & R. That was...until someone was walking through your door. 

“Dean? What the hell?!” you demanded, seeing the older Winchester traipsing inside, along with Sam, Ruby and a young woman you didn’t know.

“Whoa!” Dean jumped and covered his eyes with his hands. “(Y/N) why the hell aren’t you wearing pants?”

“Because I was home alone!” you defended, crossing your arms. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company!”

You were glad you had left the underwear and the tank top on.

“We need to use the panic room,” Dean said, looking anywhere but towards you. 

“Why? Better yet, why the hell are you bringing a demon into my house?” you demanded, glaring at Ruby. 

“Well aren’t you welcoming,” Ruby said rolling her eyes. 

“Sorry, bitch. Rule number one on my ‘How to stay alive’ list…never trust a demon,” you spat.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Enough with the cat fight,” Dean said. “Just….go put on some pants and we’ll fill you in.”

* * *

  
  
  


“Ok, so I get why the demons are after Anna,” you said, sitting at the kitchen table with Sam and Dean. “Angel radio would be a hell of a spy tool for their side. But...why would angels want her dead? What has she done that is so terrible?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Dean said, taking a sip from his beer. 

“So...what kind of skeletons does she have in her closet?” you asked.

“None that I can find,” Sam said. “Her parents were, uh, Rich and Amy Milton -- a church deacon and a housewife. The only thing I managed to dig up is...she used to see a pediatric psychiatrist.”

“For?” 

“Well...When she was like three, she'd get hysterical any time her dad got close. She was convinced that he wasn't her real father. She just kept repeating that this real father of hers was mad. Very mad -- like wanted-to-kill-her mad. But she got better as she got older and from what I can tell, she grew up normal,” Sam said. 

“So, do you think she’s hiding something?” you asked. 

“Why don't you just ask me to my face?” Anna said, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway along with Ruby. 

“Nice job watching her,” Dean scoffed at the demon.

“I'm watching her,” Ruby said dully. 

“No, you're right, Anna. Is there anything you want to tell us?” Sam asked kindly.

“About what?” Anna asked defensively.

“The angels said you were guilty of something. Why would they say that?” Sam asked. 

“You tell me. Tell me why my life has been leveled... Why my parents are dead. I don't know. I swear. I would give anything to know,” Anna pleaded, tears in her eyes.

“Okay,” Sam told her. “Then let’s find out.”

“How?” Anna asked.   
  
“I may have an idea,” you piped up.

* * *

“I really appreciate you helping us out on this,” you said driving back to your house after picking up Pam. “After the last one, I kinda figured you wouldn’t ever come within 10 feet of us again.”

“Well, hypnotizing a young girl in basically an impenetrable fortress doesn’t seem too dangerous,” Pamela said. “But fair warning, the first sign of any angel or demon business and I’m out.”

“That’s fair,” you laughed. “Sometimes I wish I could do the same.”

“How’s that going by the way? With your sexy guardian watching over you?” Pamela asked with a grin.

“How do you know he’s sexy?” you asked her, confused. She had never seen Cas’s vessel. 

“Ah, ha! So he is sexy!” Pam laughed victoriously.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “He’s also the guy who burned your eyes out and is trying to kill Anna.”

“You can still appreciate the packaging,” she shrugged. “And if he’s looking after you he can’t be all bad. I’d say more… misguided.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem,” you sighed. “Whoever is pulling his strings has a very broken concept of morality.”

“You don’t think it’s God, calling all the shots?” she asked.

“Doesn’t feel like it. And I think Cas is beginning to realize that might be a possibility,” you said.

“Do you guys talk often?” she asked curiously.

“Not really,” you replied. “But when we do, it’s always... profound. He’s definitely not one for meaningless conversation.”

“Hmm, sexy and intelligent,” she said. “If he weren’t about a million years older than you, and batting for the self righteous douchebags...I’d tell you to jump his holy bones.”

“I’m not even sure angels have genitalia,” you laughed.

“Well his vessel sure does,” she laughed back. 

* * *

  
  


You watched in the panic room as Pamela put Anna into a trance. She screamed fearfully, stuck in her memories as she was terrorized by her father. Pamela pulled her out of the trance and Anna awoke, claiming to be an angel. 

“Don’t be afraid,” Anna said. “I’m not like the others.”

“I don’t find that very reassuring,” Ruby scoffed.

  
“Neither do I,” Pamela agreed. 

“If you’re an angel, why are Uriel and Cas gunning for you?” you asked.

“They’re the ones who came for me?” she asked looking up.

“You know them?” Sam asked.

“We were kind of in the same foxhole,” she explained.

“So, what, were they like your bosses or something?” Dean asked.

“Try the other way around,” Anna replied with a grin.

“Look at you,” Dean smiled admiringly.

“We’re getting off topic here,” you sighed. “Why do they want to kill you?”

“I disobeyed... which, for us, is about the worst thing you can do. I fell,” the angel sighed. 

“You became human?” Pam asked.

“Wait a minute. I don't understand. So, angels can just become human?” Dean asked, confused.

“It kind of hurts. Try cutting your kidney out with a butter knife. That kind of hurt. I ripped out my grace,” she said.

“Come again?” Dean asked, his brows furrowed.

“My grace. It's... energy. Hacked it out and fell. My mother, Amy, couldn't get pregnant. Always called me her little miracle. She had no idea how right she was,” Anna said dejectedly.

“How...could you forget something like that?” you asked in disbelief. 

“The older I got, the longer I was human, the memories from before this life...faded,” she told you. 

“Guys...I don't think you all appreciate how completely screwed we are,” Ruby said fearfully.

“Ruby's right. Heaven wants me dead,” Anna agreed.    
  
“And Hell just wants her. A flesh-and-blood angel that you can question, torture, that bleeds. Sister, you're the Stanley Cup. And sooner or later, Heaven or Hell, they're gonna find you,” the demon said.

“I know. And that's why I'm gonna get it back,” Anna said resolutely. “I’m going to take back my grace.”

* * *

While Sam searched for possible clues to where Anna’s grace could have fallen, you drove your friend back home. Before she exited the car, she hugged you close.

“Please be careful fucking around with these angels,” she begged, holding you in an embrace. “Seriously.”

“Don’t worry, I’m always careful,” you told her, returning her hug. 

“I know you are. Do me a favor?” she asked. 

“Sure,” you replied.

“Tell that angel boy of yours... if anything happens to you, he’ll have hell to pay. And this time I’ll be more prepared,” she said sternly.

“Sure, Pam,” you laughed. “I’ll give him the message.”

You said goodbye and drove back home to meet up with the rest of the gang. What a strange group you had waiting at home for you. An angel, a demon, and the Winchesters. You were glad your dad was out of the country. He was going to have a fit when he returned. 

Shortly after you returned home, you all went to a remote field in Union Kentucky where Sam believed Anna’s grace had landed in the form of an oak tree that sprouted and grew to completion in 6 months. Unfortunately, by the time you reached the oak, someone had already taken Anna’s grace away from it. You all took refuge inside the barn on the farm nearest to the tree. 

“We still got the hex bags. I say we head back to the panic room,” Dean suggested. 

“What, forever?” Ruby rolled her eyes. 

“I'm just thinking out loud!” Dean defended.

“Oh, you call that thinking?” Ruby said with a smirk.

“Remind me again, why can’t I gank her?” you asked, glaring at the demon. 

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey. Stop it!” Sam yelled. 

“Anna's grace is gone. You understand? She can't angel up. She can't protect us. We can't fight Heaven and Hell. One side maybe, but not both. Not at once,” Ruby said sounding scared.

“Um... guys? The angels are talking again,” Anna interrupted.

“What are they saying?” Sam asked her. 

“It's weird... Like a recording... a loop. It says, ‘Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or…’" her eyes widened. 

“Or what?” Dean asked.

“‘...or we hurl him back to damnation.’" she finished. 

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense!” you exclaimed. “They drug him out of hell and they’re just going to toss him back in the second they don’t get what they want?”

“Can you see why I fell?” Anna asked. 

* * *

You were sitting in a rocking chair on a porch, staring out across a lake. There were towering green mountains in the distance. Everything was quiet, except gentle sounds of water lapping onto the shore and the distant sound of birdsong. It was peaceful...which is why you knew you were in a dream. 

“Hello, (Y/N)” Castiel said, appearing suddenly in the rocking chair beside you. 

“Cas,” you greeted. “You can control dreams?”

“It’s the only way I can communicate with you, as you’re hidden from me. How are you hiding yourselves?” he asked curiously.

“Hex bags, courtesy of a demon,” you sighed. 

“You’re working with a demon?” he asked.

“Hey, I’m no happier about it than you are,” you told him. “Sam won’t let me kill her.”

“That is concerning, but there are more pressing matters,” he said. “You must give up Anna.”

“Cas, why?” you asked him, looking into his eyes. “She seems pretty decent to me. Why are you so hell bent on killing her?”

“You misunderstand. I don’t want to kill her. Anna was a good friend to me before she fell,” he sighed. “I take no pleasure in what we have to do.”

“Then why do it? This is obviously wrong! She hasn’t done anything to deserve a death sentence!” 

“I must obey, no matter how much I dislike the orders,” Cas sighed. 

“So you’ll throw Dean back into the pit if we don’t give her up?” you asked furiously. 

“I do not think it will come to that,” he said. “I believe it was an... idle threat.”

“And if it really does come down to it? If they order you to toss Dean back into the pit?” you questioned him.

  
He remained silent. You stood and shook your with disappointment. 

“Well you’ll have to kill me too,” you whispered. “I won’t stand by and watch as you destroy my family, just like I won’t stand by and watch you murder an innocent girl, even if she is an angel. Are you prepared to kill me, Castiel?”

He stood in a flash and grasped your arms. He stared down at you, a fierce expression in his eyes. 

“I will not harm you,” he said slowly. “No matter what my orders are.”

You stared up at his crystal eyes, heart beating so loud you were sure he could hear it. You were still angry at him for refusing to think for himself, but when he was this close to you...all you could think about was the way his hands felt against your bare skin. His presence affected you more than you cared to admit. Silence stretched between you and he stared down into your own eyes. His expression softened and for a wild moment you thought maybe he was going to kiss you, but then he looked up suddenly.

“Something is happening,” he said quickly. “I am being summoned. I expect I will see you soon.”

With a rustle of wings, he was gone.

* * *

You awoke suddenly from the hay bale you fell asleep on. You blinked and looked around the barn, but only Anna was in the room with you.

“You were having an angel dream,” she said, staring at you.

“How could you tell?” you asked.

“Something about the energy around you...I don’t know. I could just tell,” Anna said.

“Don’t worry, he doesn’t know where we are and I didn’t tell him,” you sighed, getting to your feet and shaking off bits of straw.

“Him?” she questioned.

“Cas,” you told her. “He’s sort of my...guardian now?”

She stared at you with wide eyes. 

You grinned at her expression and peeled back your shirt to show her the inside of your arm. 

“First time we met, he grabbed my arm and this appeared. Hurt like hell too,” you told her, watching her eyes widen even further as she examined the brand. 

“I’ve never seen this before,” she said in awe. 

“Yeah, apparently no one has,” you told her. “Best guess he had was he was meant to protect me? That I’ll be needed somewhere down the line. Can’t imagine what for.”

“Castiel...he’s a good angel,” she said slowly. “He was one of my closest friends. He was also one of the most loyal. Never questioned anything.”

“Too bad you didn’t rub off on him,” you said. “I really would love to see what he’s like without someone holding his leash.”

Just then, Dean entered the barn with Sam, sipping out of his flask. 

“Little early for that, isn't it?” Anna said, disapprovingly.

“It's 2 a.m. somewhere,” Dean shrugged, not meeting her eyes. 

“Where’s Ruby?” you asked, noticing the absence of the demon.

Suddenly the barn doors burst open in a gust of wind. Uriel and Cas strode in, and the doors shut again behind them. 

“Hello Anna, it’s good to see you,” Cas said, staring at the other angel. 

“How? How did you find us?” Sam asked.

Cas’s gaze flickered over to Dean. Dean looked down ashamed.

  
“Dean?” Sam asked his brother tentatively.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispered to Anna.

“Dean….why?” you asked the elder Winchester. 

“Because they gave him a choice. They either kill me... or kill Sam. I know how their minds work,” Anna said dejectedly. 

Anna placed a soft kiss upon Dean’s lips. You stared around at Cas, glaring in anger. He returned your gaze for a moment before looking away. Tears formed in your eyes and you had to look away as well. 

“You did the best you could. I forgive you,” Anna whispered to Dean. 

She strode forwards resolutely, putting herself in between the humans and the angels. “Okay. No more tricks. No more running. I'm ready.”

“I am sorry,” Cas said sadly.

“No. You're not. Not really. You don't know the feeling,” Anna scoffed. 

“Still, we have a history. It's just --”

“Orders are orders. I know. Just make it quick,” she demanded.

“Don't you touch a hair on that poor girl's head,” Alastair said suddenly appearing in the room, alongside two other demons who were holding up Ruby. Ruby was bleeding heavily in her abdomen and looked ready to pass out at any moment.

“How dare you come in this room... you pussing sore?” Uriel declared in a dangerous voice. 

And suddenly you were in the middle of a brawl between angels and demons. Uriel was attacked by both of the demons that were holding up Ruby. Cas started fighting with Alastair, but was stunned when he wasn’t able to exorcise him. 

Alastair got the jump on him and pinned Cas to the floor. He began chanting in latin, trying to exorcise the angel. You debated on what to do for a second before grabbing your knife from your boot. You ran forwards, ignoring Sam and Dean’s protests, and sunk the blade deep into the demon’s neck. Alaistair spun around in shock, and pulled the knife from his throat.

“Bad move, sweetheart,” he sneered, before he threw you across the barn where your head hit a wooden beam painfully and you crumpled to the floor. 

You hissed in pain, but didn’t have time to dwell on it. Anna had just begun absorbing her grace back into her body in a swirling mist of bright blue light. 

“Shut your eyes,” she warned. 

Suddenly, Cas was beside you. He put an arm around you and pulled you gently towards him.

“Don’t look,” he warned you softly.

“Shut your eyes!” Anna screamed again.

You buried your face into the angel’s trenchcoat.

You could feel the moment Anna’s grace exploded within her. A warm gust of energy engulfed the entire barn. You tried to focus on that energy, but you were distracted at the feel of Castiel’s arm around you and the smell of him in your nose. He smelled like fresh air, pure and crisp.

You could feel the moment Anna had disappeared. Cas pulled away, and looked at you.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

His eyes lingered on the trail of blood seeping down your face from your head wound. He brought his fingers to your face, and a warmth filled your body. Suddenly the pain stopped, and you knew he had healed you.

“Thank you,” you muttered. 

He helped you stand. All the demons including Alastair had vanished, along with Anna. Cas left your side and walked over to Uriel who was staring at him. 

“Well, what are you guys waiting for? Go get Anna. Unless, of course, you're scared,” Dean goaded them. 

“This isn't over,” Uriel growled, stepping forwards but Cas held him back. 

“Oh, it looks over to me, junkless,” Dean said with a smirk.

Cas spared one more glance your way, before the pair of angels disappeared before you. 

“Hey, you ok?” Dean asked, looking you over.

“Yeah… Cas healed me,” you told him. 

“And what? He didn’t share with the rest of the class?” Ruby complained clutching her still bleeding stomach. 

“Perks of having a guardian angel,” you shrugged. “I don’t think they give those out to demons. So what happens to Anna, now she has her grace back?”

“She must be some big time angel now,” Sam said. “She’s gotta be happy, wherever she is.”

“I doubt it,” Dean replied. 

With what little you know about how the angels operated, you had to agree with Dean. 


	6. On the Head of a Pin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo this one is a long one. Strap yourselves in. 
> 
> How are you liking this story? I hope it is at least entertaining to read! I think it will really start to get good when Lucy breaks out. It's coming up sooner rather than later!

You weren’t there when Pam took her final breath. You were in fucking Chubbuk, Idaho dealing with a vengeful spirit. You weren’t there when that demon sunk it’s blade deep down into Pamela’s stomach. You weren’t there when she took her final breath, defending Sam and Dean’s unconscious bodies. 

You weren’t there.

That’s all you could think of as you stood there in the cemetery with Sam and Dean. Your father had chosen not to attend. He never went to funerals if he could help it. They gave him flashbacks to when you had to bury your mom. Dad said he would pay his respects by pouring Pamela a glass of Johnny Walker blue label. 

The ceremony was small. Pamela didn’t have a lot of family, but she did have a good circle of friends. Many of them were psychics and hunters. They all held their heads down, but you saw a few of them stare over at the Winchesters, blame written clear as day on their faces. 

But they had it all wrong. You were the one to blame.

  
You were the one who introduced Pamela to the Winchesters in the first place. You were the one who begged for her help time and time again. You drug her into your mess of a life, and she had paid the ultimate price. 

You wiped a tear away, and spun around, headed towards the parking lot. You couldn’t stay there a minute longer. You heard Sam and Dean follow behind you.

“Hey, wait up,” Dean said, shutting the Impala’s door you had just opened. 

“I want to leave, Dean,” you said shakily. “I want to leave now. I...we shouldn’t have come.”

“Pamela was a good friend to you,” Sam said, giving you a look of sympathy. “Of course you should be here.”

“Not when I’m the reason she’s in the ground!” you spat, tears leaking out the corners of your eyes.

“Nuh uh, if you’re looking for someone to blame, look right here,” Dean said pointing at himself. “It’s our fault Pamela’s dead. We were the ones who called her for help. You weren’t even near us.”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who introduced you guys to her. I should have never drug her into our bullshit,” you cried. “I should have been there...I could have saved her.”

“Listen here (y/n), you need to take all that self blame bullshit and throw it out. You wanna know what Pamela’s final words were? She said ‘Tell (y/n) that if she dares to even think about blaming herself for my death, I will come back and haunt her ass so fast, that Poltergeist will look like a day at Disneyland’,” Dean said fondly.

You left out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. 

“She didn’t blame you at all for this. In fact, she even said she blames us,” Sam told you sadly. 

“People tend to die around us. Plain and simple. I’m just sorry it had to be your friend this time,” Dean said sadly. 

“One of the very few I have,” you sighed. 

“Well, you’ll always have us,” Dean said, pulling you in for a hug. 

You pulled Sam into the hug, effectively making you the middle of a Winchester sandwich. It was a sweet moment, until Sam’s phone rang, breaking the silence. 

“Sorry...oh I just have to take this,” Sam said, pulling out his phone and walking a few steps away.

“How much you wanna bet it’s his demon girlfriend?” you sighed, staring at the back of the taller Winchester.

“You’re probably right,” Dean conceded. 

“What are we going to do about her, Dean?” you asked in a low voice. “I don’t care how helpful she’s being, she’s a fucking DEMON. I’m telling you she has got to have a secret agenda.”

“Yeah, well try telling Sam that,” Dean growled. “Dude just won’t listen!”

Sam walked back over to you, silencing your conversation.

“So that was Ruby,” he began.

You elbowed Dean in an “I told you so” fashion. 

“Says she has some intel about Lilith. She wants to meet up,” Sam continued. 

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Outside of Cheyenne,” Sam replied. 

“Well...Let’s hit the road,” you sighed, climbing into the backseat. 

* * *

  
  
  


You stopped around midnight at a run down motel, all of you ready to pass out. It had been a long and taxing day. You followed Sam and Dean into the room, only to find it was already occupied by Uriel and Cas. 

“Oh come on,” Dean sighed in frustration. 

“You are needed,” Uriel stated without preamble. 

“Yeah, well it’s gonna have to wait until morning,” you grumbled. “The mud monkey’s aren’t feeling up to entertaining today.”

“Castiel, control your pet,” Uriel growled. 

“I’m not his pet!” you exclaimed. 

“You have been crying,” Cas said, noticing your red rimmed eyes.

  
“We just got back from Pamela's funeral,” Sam explained, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“Pamela. You know, psychic Pamela? Good friend of ours. You remember her. Cas, you remember her. You burned her eyes out. Remember that? Good times. Yeah, then she died saving one of your precious seals. So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces for  _ five freaking minutes!”  _ Dean shouted at the angel. 

“We raised you out of hell for our purposes,” Uriel stated, glaring at Dean. 

“Yeah, what were those again? What exactly did you want from me?” the elder Winchester demanded. 

“Start with gratitude,” Uriel spat. 

“Dean, we know this is difficult to understand,” Cas began.

“And we don't care. Now, seven angels have been murdered, all of them from our garrison. The last one was killed tonight,” Uriel said bluntly.

Silence filled the overcrowded room for several seconds.

“What can kill an angel?” you thought aloud.

“Demons? How they doing it?” Dean supplied. 

“We don't know,” Uriel said. 

“I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it? I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?” Sam asked. 

“We can handle the demons, thank you very much,” Uriel scoffed. 

“Once we find whoever it is,” Cas continued. 

“So you need our help hunting a demon?” Dean asked. 

“Not quite. We have Alastair,” Castiel said.

“Great. He should be able to name your trigger man,” Dean said with a shrug. 

“But he won't talk. Alastair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse,” Cas said, looking almost uncomfortable now.

“Yeah, well, he's like a black belt in torture. I mean, you guys are out of your league,” Dean told him. 

“That's why we've come to his student. You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got,” Uriel said with glee. 

Dean looked down ashamed. 

“Dean, you are our best hope,” Cas pleaded. 

“Let me get this straight….you want Dean to torture a demon. The same demon that tortured him in hell? Cas...you can’t ask him to do that,” you breathed. 

“Who said anything about asking?” Uriel said with a chuckle.

Suddenly, you were standing in a completely different room. Dean was beside you blinking in confusion. You were both in some kind of abandoned old meat processing plant. 

“Oh come on!” Dean growled at the angels. “And why did you bring (y/n)?”

“Why did you bring your pet?” Uriel asked Castiel in amusement. 

“She is emotionally compromised right now. Her judgment is not clear. I will watch over her until Dean is finished with his task,” he said, avoiding your gaze. 

“Well, Sam could have watched her,” Dean suggested.

“I do not trust Sam, giving his involvement with demons,” Cas explained. 

  
“Okay, can we stop forgetting that I am a grown ass woman who doesn’t need ANYONE WATCHING ME?!” you shouted in anger. 

“Enough of this,” Uriel spat. “Onto the task at hand.”

Uriel pointed to a door with a glass pane, showing Alastair chained and bound inside a devil’s trap. From the looks of it, he had been there several days already. Dean peered inside the window and grimaced. 

“This devil's trap is old Enochian. He's bound completely,” Cas assured him. 

“Fascinating,” Dean replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “C’mon (y/n).”

He grabbed your hand and led you across the room. 

“Where are you going?” Cas asked. 

“We will hitch our asses back to Cheyenne, thank you very much,” he said, still searching for an exit. 

Suddenly Uriel blocked Dean’s path.

“Angels are dying, boy,” Uriel said in a deadly calm voice. 

“Everybody's dying these days. And hey, I get it. You're all-powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this,” Dean urged. 

“This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it,” Cas sighed. 

“You really don’t,” you said, glaring holes at Cas. You grasped Dean’s hand even tighter. Cas’s eyes flickered down, taking in your clasped hands. “He isn’t a piece of meat for you to throw around!”

“I want to talk to Cas alone,” Dean proclaimed. 

Uriel smirked, and looked over at Cas. 

“I think I'll go seek revelation. We might have some further orders,” the angel said. 

Dean let go of your hand and sat on the edge of the table in the room.

“Well, get some donuts while you're out,” he said with an air of casualty. 

Uriel let out a short laugh. 

“Ah, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy,” he chuckled before disappearing. 

“I’ll just uh...step out?” you muttered, trying to give the two men a moment alone.

“No, you don’t have to go anywhere. I just wanted junkless out so we can all have a little pow wow,” Dean told you before turning to the angel. “What the hell is goin’ on Cas? Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?”

“My superiors have begun to question my sympathies,” Cas confessed. 

“Meaning?” Dean asked. 

“I was getting too close to the humans in my charge,” Cas said, his eyes on you. “They feel I've begun to express emotions. The doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment.”

“So you’re not allowed to ‘feel’ or they put you on probation?” you scoffed disgustedly. 

“Angels aren’t supposed to feel,” he sighed. “We are supposed to be above that.”

“Well you need to tell your superiors...you do not want me doing this, trust me,” Dean warned him. 

“Want it, no. But I have been told we need it,” Cas said.

“Who told you?” you asked. 

“My superiors,” Cas said shortly.

“Oh. Right,” you murmured, rolling your eyes. “Because they’re doing a bang up job calling shots right now.”

“Cas...You ask me to open that door and walk through it, you will not like what walks back out,” Dean said, his voice filled with dread. 

“For what it's worth, I would give anything not to have you do this,” Cas told him, his voice earnest. 

* * *

  
  


Dean prepared a list of things he would need for the job, and Cas was quick to oblige. While the angel gathered the supplies, Dean took you aside.

“Listen...I don’t know what’s going to happen in there...or what kind of headspace I’ll be in when I’m finished,” he began. 

“Dean…” you began.

“No..just listen. If I come out of this and I’m...not myself… tell Cas to knock me out alright? Then get me back to the panic room and chain me up,” he instructed. “At least until I get my head straightened out again.”

You sighed and threw your arms around the taller man’s neck, hugging him tight to you. Dean wrapped his arms around you in comfort. Whether it was for your comfort or his own, you weren’t sure. 

“And don’t you dare come in there while I’m….working,” he said in a quiet voice. “I don’t want you to see me like that.”

“I won’t let you lose yourself, Dean. I promise,” you whispered. “I’ll find you a way out of this.”

The sound of wings interrupted your moment, and Cas appeared a few feet away, staring at the pair of you curiously. 

Dean stepped away and loaded a cart up with the supplies the angel provided. He sighed, took one last look at you and Cas and pushed the cart towards the chained demon.

“Dean,” Cas called before he could enter the other room. “Thank you.”

Dean looked at him for a moment, but said nothing. He pushed the door open with the supply cart and disappeared behind the door. You sighed and strode over towards the desk and took a seat on it. 

“So now what?” you asked the angel. 

“Now….we wait for Alastair to break,” Castiel said. 

“You mean if Dean doesn’t break first,” you said with malice.

“You are angry with me,” Cas sighed. “I understand why. You are worried for Dean.”

“Yes, I am worried for Dean,” you sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the table. “And I’m also worried for you.”

“Why?” he asked in confusion, his head tilted slightly to the side. 

“Because they won’t let you have a mind of your own,” you supplied. “You’re just going along with whatever they tell you, no matter how awful it feels to you. They won’t even let you feel anything except blind obedience...That’s no way to live.”

“Obedience is the only thing I’ve ever known,” he said, sitting beside you. “Until recently.”

Screams began to echo through the walls. Alastair's screams. You shut your eyes and grimaced at the noise. Cas placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“You said your superiors were concerned you were expressing emotions?” you asked. 

“In the barn, Uriel noticed our interaction,” Cas supplied. “He saw me shield you from Anna’s light, and then I healed you.”

“And you weren’t supposed to?” you asked.

  
“I am only allowed to heal you from life threatening injuries...and I am only allowed that much because you are bound to me,” Cas told you.

“So why did you heal me? It wasn’t a serious injury,” you asked, staring into his crystal eyes.

“I...didn’t like seeing you injured,” he said slowly. “I have great concern for your well being, both physically and mentally.”

“If you’re so concerned, go in there and tell Dean to stop,” you breathed, wincing again as screams echoed around you. 

“I can’t defy a direct order, (y/n)....no matter how much I want to,” Cas pleaded with you to understand. 

You heard Dean scream something at the demon, his voice swelled with anger. Your mind whirled desperately trying to come up with something to get Dean out of there, but your mind went blank. A tear escaped from the corner of your eye and fell down your cheek.

“You’re crying,” Cas observed.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, wiping it away. “It’s kind of been a long day. Pamela’s funeral...now all of this...it’s just..a lot.”

Castiel looked at you silently for several long seconds. He seemed to be considering something. Then to your amazement, he drew you into him, hugging you to him like he had when he had shielded you in the barn. You were stunned.

“What...what are you doing?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“This is...I saw Dean do this earlier. It is a form of comfort, is it not?” Cas asked, his arms still around you. “Am I doing it wrong?”

“No...I just...didn’t expect it from you,” you said, resting your head against his chest. You began to relax against him. “Thank you.”

“This is pleasant,” he told you, and despite the horrible circumstances, you grinned. 

He held you like that for a while. Alastair’s screams were the macabre soundtrack to your intimate moment. You were at war with yourself and with the way you felt about the angel holding you.

“May I ask you something?” Cas said, breaking the silence. 

“Suppose so,” you replied. 

“Are you and Dean...romantically involved?”

“Ugh, no way!” you exclaimed, pulling back and staring up at the angel in shock. “Why would you even ask that?”

  
“You seem close. Earlier he held your hand and embraced you,” Cas said. “From what I understand, that is what humans do when they are sexually involved.”

“Dean and I are like brother and sister,” you told him. “Definitely no sexual involvement there.”

“Oh,” he said simply. “Good.”

“Why is that good?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” he said looking very confused. “I feel...very protective of you.” 

“Because of this?” you asked, holding out your arm and pulling back your sleeve to reveal the brand. 

“This may be a contributing factor,” he said, staring down at the brand. 

Slowly, he traced his fingers over the raised marks. You shivered, feeling a surge of heat spread through your veins. He noticed your reaction and paused, eyes flickering up to meet yours. Time froze and you were sure he could hear your heart pounding in your chest. He moved forwards, and you were sure he was about to kiss you. He seemed just as hypnotized as you were as the last few inches between you disappeared. His lips were centimeters away….

Dean’s furious snarls ripped through the air, causing you to jump back. You hadn’t realized how quiet it had gotten, broken now by screams once again. 

“I’ll go check on him,” Cas suggested, moving away from you towards the door.

You sighed, feeling too much at once. You had an undeniable attraction towards the angel, something you had never felt before... yet he was willing to sit back while Dean destroyed himself to get answers for his superiors. Dean screamed at Alastair again, demanding answers. You heard Alastair cackle in response. 

You clenched your jaw in anger. You weren’t going to just sit by and listen to this, but one thing was certain…you needed help. Dean needed help. There was only one person you knew of that could lend you a hand...or a wing to be more precise. You shut your eyes and prayed hard, but not to your own angel. Instead you prayed for Dean’s.

The lights began to flicker, and the one closest to you exploded. Cas stepped away from the door, looking around with concern. Anna appeared suddenly beside you. She gave you a reassuring smile. 

“Anna,” you said, greeting her. “Thank you for answering me.”

“You summoned her?” Cas asked, disgruntled. 

“It’s nice to see you too, Castiel,” she said dryly. 

“You shouldn't be here. We still have orders to kill you,” Cas warned her. 

“Somehow I don't think you'll try,” she said, glancing at you. “Where's Uriel?”

“He went to receive revelation,” Cas told her.

“Right,” she replied sarcastically. 

“Anna, they’re making Dean torture Alastair,” you said quickly. “We have to get him out of there.”

“Why are you letting Dean do this?” Anna asked. 

Cas turned away from Anna and you. 

“He's doing God's work,” he answered. 

“Torturing? That's God's work? Stop him, Cas, please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have,” Anna urged. 

“Who are we to question the will of God?” Cas asked. 

“Unless this isn't his will,” Anna said, echoing your thoughts. 

“Then where do the orders come from?”

“I don't know. One of our superiors, maybe, but not him,” she replied. 

“I’m not sure how things work in heaven, but is it possible that someone else is giving orders and just….saying they come from up top?” you asked them. 

“Yes,” Anna answered quickly. “It is possible, I would even say probable.”

She turned back to Cas. 

“The father you love. You think he wants this? You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous? What you're feeling? It's called doubt.”

Anna walked closer to the angel in the trench coat and laid her hand on his. 

“These orders are wrong and you know it. But you can do the right thing. Do it for Dean. Do it for (y/n). You care about them don’t you? Look I get it... you're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can still—”

Cas yanked his hand away like he’d been burned. 

“Together?” he growled. “I am nothing like you. You fell. Go.”

“Cas…” she started. 

“Go,” he said dangerously. 

“It’s alright Anna. You tried. Thank you,” you said quietly.

She gave you one last pitying look and vanished. Cas glared in your direction, and you met his gaze with your jaw clenched. Finally, he looked away. You paced around the room, frantically. You wished you had your phone on you, but it was in your bag back at the motel. Without any way to contact the outside for help, you were out of options.

The sound of Dean’s pained groans broke you out of your silence. The sound of a thud followed. You looked up at Cas, horror etched on your face. Cas looked at you with wide eyes. 

“Stay here!” he demanded, before busting into the other room. 

Inside you could see Dean, laying bloodied on the floor as Cas began striking at a now free Alastair. Cas held out his hand, his power twisting the demon knife slowly into Alastair, but Alastair, fueled by his rage managed to pull the knife out before it could hit anything fatal. He threw the knife down and knocked Cas back, impaling him on a hook sticking out of a beam. 

You rushed into the room and grabbed the demon knife from the floor. 

“NO!” Cas cried out as you charged forwards.

You ignored him and shoved the angel blade deep into the demon’s neck. You twisted it as hard as you could, spurts of his blood showering you. Alaistair grabbed your arm, stopping you from sinking it in further. 

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time, sweetheart?” he grinned before punching you hard across the face.

Pain erupted around your right cheek, but you managed to shake it off and dodge his next blow. He rushed you, and landed another blow to your face and this time you fell hard. In a second he was on top of you. He grasped your wrists in one hand, pinning them above you. With the other, he pulled out the knife that was still sticking out of his neck. He brought the knife to your neck gently, a sick smile on his face. From the corner of your eye you saw Cas struggling frantically to break free from the hook he was impaled on. Alastair noticed as well and shoved him back with his own power. 

“Now, let’s see if we can add some color to this ...rather pale neck, shall we?” Alastair chuckled.

  
You felt the knife pinch at your neck, but suddenly the demon was thrown off of you. Sam had arrived. 

* * *

  
  


Hours later, at the local hospital, you sat beside Dean’s bed with Sam. Sam snored softly beside you. Dean had several fractures in his face, a cracked rib, and some internal bleeding, but the doctors assured you he would make a full recovery. Still, the tube down his throat did nothing to ease your anxiety for him. You frowned and grimaced at the movement. You had also sustained a cracked cheek bone, courtesy of the departed Alaistair. The right side of your face was swollen and purple, but you considered yourself lucky. If Sam had arrived a second later…

A figure appeared in the doorway and you looked up to see Cas watching you. Anger filled you and you shot up, careful not to wake the sleeping men. You stormed out into the hall.

“Where have you been? Get in there and heal Dean,” you demanded angrily. 

“I can’t,” Cas said sadly. 

“Sure you can, you did it for me before!” you argued hotly. “Just go in there and fix him. This is your fault in the first place!”

“I told you, I am not allowed to heal anyone but you,” he said, eyeing your purple face. 

“But Dean is suffering because of you! You’re the one who rigged up a faulty devil’s trap!” you said, struggling to keep your voice quiet. You wanted to scream at him. 

“I don't know what happened!” Cas replied with frustration. “That trap...it shouldn't have broken. I am sorry.”

“Dean is the one you need to apologize to. Too bad he’s unconscious,” you growled. “I begged you not to do this to him, and look where it’s gotten us. The demons weren’t even the ones killing the angels. All of this was pointless.”

You turned, ready to storm away from him but he grabbed your arm. You shook him off. 

  
“Please,” he begged in a quiet voice. “Let me heal you.”

“No Castiel,” you said firmly. “If Dean has to suffer because of your choices, then so do I.”

You walked back into the room, leaving the angel alone out in the hall. 


	7. Maybe He's a Prophet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna say thanks for continuing to read this story. I really love writing it, and it means the world to me that other people are enjoying it too. <3

“Not that I don’t enjoy spending time with my favorite Singer, but you really didn’t have to come along on this one. Honestly it sounded like a stretch to begin with,” Dean said as you all climbed out of the Impala. 

“Well, after all that mess with Alastair and then you two disappearing for 2 weeks playing pretend with the angels…I don’t know, I just feel like I should stick close to you guys for a while,” you said, smoothing out your skirt on your FBI uniform. 

“Aww, see? She really does love us,” Sam said pinching your cheek.

“Watch yourself, Winchester,” you jested, slapping his hand away. “I don’t care how tall you are, I will climb up there and punch you in the face.

Dean made an angry cat noise and you rolled your eyes. 

“Come on, idjits,” you said, heading towards the comic book shop. 

The three of you went into the shabby little store and Dean began his normal round of questioning to the chubby guy behind the counter. After a few of the usual questions, the man eyes went wide with excitement. 

“I knew it! You guys are LARPing, aren't you?!” he exclaimed. 

“Excuse me?” Dean asked perplexed. 

“You're fans!” the man said.

“Fans of what?” Sam asked, confused. 

“What is "LARPing"?” Dean asked. 

“Live Action Role Playing,” you and the man answered at the same time. 

Dean stared at you with amusement. 

“I was undercover for a job...Nevermind I’ll tell you later,” you shrugged, knowing he was definitely going to grill you later for all the juicy details. 

“See! Pretending you’re FBI agents….You're asking questions like the building's haunted.... Like those guys from the books. What are they called? Uh... "Supernatural." Two guys, and their surrogate sister use fake IDs with cool rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sal and Dane?” the guy thought aloud.

“Sam and Dean?” Sam supplied. 

“That’s it!” the guy said excitedly. “And of course (Y/N). The badass chick who always saved their asses.”

“She saves our asses?!” Dean cried indignantly.

“Yeah she does!” you laughed. 

“You're saying this is a book?” Sam asked, getting back to the point. 

“It was a series. Didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of had more of an underground cult following,” the comic book guy said, making his way over to the bargain bin. He pulled out a weathered paperback and handed it to Dean. “That’s the first one.”

You peered over Dean’s shoulder and saw the title page read ‘Supernatural’ by Carver Edlund. On the front was a picture of a black impala with two muscular looking men looking forlornly into the distance, silhouetted by a full moon. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna need every copy you have,” you told the man, flashing him a couple of twenty dollar bills. 

Comic book guy was super helpful and quickly gathered all the Supernatural books he had in stock. You paid him more than they were probably worth, and quickly headed back to the motel with the boys. You changed from your stuffy FBI outfit into a pair of jeans and David Bowie tshirt. You grabbed one of Dean’s flannel’s from his bag to top it off. Dean was so engrossed in his copy of Supernatural, he didn’t even notice. You grabbed your own book and began leafing through it. 

“This is freakin' insane. How's this guy know all this stuff?” Dean asked disgruntled, scanning through his own copy.

“Oh, listen to this! ‘Y/N was a unique combination of equal parts Singer and Winchester. Like her father, she was intelligent and logical, but like her surrogate brothers, she was also hot headed and dangerous.’,” you read aloud. “Then he goes on to say ‘she was as lethal as she was lovely’. I can’t tell if he’s insulting me or if he has a crush on me.”

“Sounds like a bit of both,” Sam chuckled. 

“Everything is in here. I mean everything. From the racist truck to – to me having sex. I'm full-frontal in here, dude,” Dean spat in disgust. “How come we haven't heard of these books before?”

“I mean...I don’t spend a lot of time googling myself, do you?” You asked, joining the boys at the table. “Ugh...you know what? Don’t answer that.”

“They're pretty obscure. I mean, almost zero circulation. Uh, started in '05. The publisher put out a couple dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one – ‘No Rest For The Wicked’,” Sam said showing you both the laptop. “Ends with Dean going to hell.”

“I reiterate. Freaking insane,” Dean said, scrolling through the website. “Check it out. There’s actually fans. There’s not many of them, but still. Did you read this?”

“Yeah,” Sam said uncomfortably. 

“Although for fans, they sure do complain a lot. Listen to this – Simpatico says "the demon story line is trite, clichéd, and overall craptastic." Yeah, well, screw you, Simpatico. We lived it.” Dean huffed. 

“Sorry we didn’t make it a little more original,” you said sarcastically. 

“Yeah. Well, keep on reading. It gets better,” Sam said, a funny look on his face. 

“There are "Sam girls" and "Dean girls" and hey look! There are ‘(y/n) guys’,” Dean said flashing you a wink, which you rolled your eyes at.

“Hey– what's a "slash fan"?” Dean asked. 

“Oh my god!” you cried, looking at the website. “As in Dean/Sam...sexually involved. They call it Wincest!”

You bursted out laughing at the horrified look on Dean’s face.

“Don’t they know we’re brothers?!” Dean asked, stricken. 

“Doesn’t seem to matter to them,” Sam cringed. 

You continued to laugh your head off, tears of mirth gathering in the corners of your eyes. 

“Yeah, laugh it up all you want, (y/n). There’s a whole group that ship the pair of us, uh...dominating you,” Sam told you.

That made you shut up.

“Oh that is just sick!” Dean cried in disgust, while you pretended to vomit. Dean shut the laptop angrily. “We gotta find this Carver Edlund.”

“Yeah, that might not be so easy,” Sam sighed. “No tax records, no known address. Looks like "Carver Edlund” is a pen name.”

“Somebody’s gotta know who he is,” Dean said thoughtfully.

“Let’s start with the publisher,” you suggested. “It’s a small name publishing company, so it can’t be hard to track down.”

“Yeah, good thinking,” Dean said. 

Sam opened the laptop back up and was about to do a search for the publisher when he saw something on the fansite that made his eyes go wide, a horrified expression froze on his face.

“Oh god what is it?” you groaned. 

“Oh….oh no….Sam slash Bobby,” he gasped.

Dean met your eyes and in perfect unison you both pretended to vomit all over the table. 

  
  


After some tactical flirting with the publisher on Sam and Dean’s part, you all made your way over to the supposed creative genius’ house. It was a rather grungy little house in a run down part of town. The bushes were overgrown, giving an air of dilapidation to the place. You rang the bell on the door, Sam and Dean both at your back. 

A shorter man answered. He looked like he hadn’t showered in a few days and he was wearing a dirty bathrobe over a stained shirt and boxers. Even still, you thought he would be kind of cute if he cleaned himself up. You smiled widely at him.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. Are you Chuck Shurley, the author of the Supernatural books” you asked. 

He raked an appreciative glance over you, but then looked intimidated by the two giants behind you. 

“Uh...maybe. Why?” he asked timidly. 

“I’m (y/n), and this is Sam and Dean...it seems you’ve been writing about our lives, Mr. Shurley, and we’d like to know how,” you said gently. 

Chuck stared at the three of you and offered you a small smile. He nodded...and then promptly shut the door in your face. 

“Well...so much for asking nicely,” you muttered with a sigh. 

You banged on the door with your fist, rattling the glass. Chuck opened the door begrudgingly.

“Look, uh... I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do. It's, uh, it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life,” Chuck told you. 

He tried to shut the door again, but Dean held it open. 

“See, here's the thing. We have a life. You've been using it to write your books,” Dean declared. 

“Can we come in, Mr. Shurley? Thanks,” you said, and without waiting for an answer, you marched forwards, forcing Chuck to walk backwards into the house. 

“Now, wait a minute. Now, this isn't funny,” Chuck stuttered, looking scared. 

“Damn straight, it's not funny,” Dean agreed. 

“Look, we just want to know how you're doing it,” Sam said reasonably. 

“I'm not doing anything!” Chuck exclaimed. 

“Are you a hunter?” Dean asked the shorter man.

“What? No. I'm a writer,” Chuck said quickly.

“Then how do you know so much about demons?” Dean barked, taking a step towards him. Chuck backed up and fell back onto his threadbare couch. 

“Is this some kind of "Misery" thing? Ah, it is, isn't it? It's a "Misery" thing!” Chuck cried in terror. 

“No, it's not a "Misery" thing. Believe me, we are not fans!” Dean shouted. 

“Well, then, what do you want?!” Chuck said, looking close to wetting himself.

“Ok, let’s all calm down,” you said, pushing Dean back away from the cowering man on the sofa. You looked back at Chuck. “We’re not here to hurt you, okay? I’m (y/n) Singer. This is Sam and Dean Winchester.”

Chuck paused, looking unsettled.

“How...how did you know the last name?” he asked quietly. “I never told anyone the last name. I never even wrote it down.”

“Because, we are who we say we are,” you promised. “This isn’t a hoax, Mr. Shurley.”

“I...I think I need a drink,” he stated, getting off the sofa and heading into the cluttered kitchen to pour himself a large glass of whiskey. 

You shared a look with the boys, but followed him. Chuck took a heavy swallow of whiskey, and turned to face you all. 

“Oh! You’re still there,” Chuck said surprised. “You're not a hallucination.”

“Sorry, buddy,” you said, giving him a sympathetic look. 

“Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously I'm a god,” Chuck said matter of factly. 

“You're not a god,” Sam said quickly. 

“How else do you explain it? I write things and then they come to life. Yeah, no, I'm definitely a god. A cruel, cruel, capricious god. The things I put you through – The physical beatings alone!” Chuck exclaimed horrified. 

“Yeah, we're still in one piece,” Dean muttered. 

“I killed your father. I burned your mother alive. And then you had to go through the whole horrific deal again with Jessica,” Chuck said staring at Sam. 

“Chuck…,” Sam said with a sigh. 

“I made your mother get possessed and stab you! And then made you watch as your father killed her! All for what? All for the sake of literary symmetry. I toyed with your lives, your emotions, for... entertainment…” Chuck breathed, disgusted with himself. 

“You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay? You didn't create us,” Dean assured the man. 

“Did you really have to live through the bugs?” Chuck asked suddenly.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded.

“Glad I wasn’t there for that one,” you shuddered. 

“What about the ghost ship?” Chuck asked. 

“Yes, that too,” Dean said with an air of annoyance. 

“I am so sorry. I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing... if I would have known it was real, I would have done another pass,” Chuck said apologetically.

“Chuck, you're not a god!” Dean shouted, clearly very annoyed at this point. 

“We think you're probably just psychic,” Sam offered. 

“No. If I were psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard,” Chuck said, taking a seat at his computer. 

“He could be a prophet,” you offered, leaning against the wall.

“A prophet?” Chuck asked, curiously.

“Yeah, what?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know, it’s something Cas mentioned to me once when we were trying to figure out all of the weird branding stuff,” you said. “He said certain people, like prophets, can hear the angel’s true voices.”

“Woah, Castiel is real too?!” Chuck asked amazed. 

“Yeah, Chuck. At this point, just assume, if you have written it then it’s real,” you told him. 

“Are you working on anything right now?” Dean asked. 

“Holy crap,” Chuck said suddenly, realization dawning on him.

“What?” Sam asked quickly.

Chuck picked up a pile of papers that was sitting beside his keyboard. 

“The, uh, latest book? It's, uh, it's kind of weird...It's very Vonnegut,” he began.

“"Slaughterhouse-Five" Vonnegut or "Cat's Cradle" Vonnegut?” Dean asked. 

Both you and Sam stared at him in surprise. 

“What?” Dean said defensively.

“It's, uh, "Kilgore Trout" Vonnegut. I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, at my house... confronted by my characters,” Chuck said slowly. 

“Can we see what you’ve written recently?” Dean asked. 

  
“Yeah, sure,” Chuck said, handing him the manuscript. 

You noticed how shaken and frazzled he looked and decided Chuck could use a breather. 

“Listen, why don’t you and Sam take that and go to a laundromat to do some laundry. I’m pretty sure I’m wearing your last clean flannel, and I’m pretty sure Chuck here could use a break,” you suggested to Dean. 

“What if he runs off?” Dean asked.

“I’ll stay here to keep an eye on him. That is, if you don’t mind Mr. Shurley? Just until we figure this out a bit?” you asked sweetly. 

“Call me Chuck, please. And yeah, I guess that would be ok,” he said. 

“Fine, but watch him closely. And call me if he writes anything else,” Dean conceded. 

“You got it,” you told him.

  
The boys left and you offered a sympathetic smile to Chuck.

“Sorry about them. They can be a little aggressive, but then….you would know,” you said with a soft laugh. 

He gave you a pensive look.

“You’re exactly how I wrote you, you know? Always looking out for everyone else...,” he said slowly. “I’m...I’m so sorry for what happened with your mom.”

“Thanks, Chuck. It wasn’t your fault though, so don’t blame yourself,” you said, taking a seat on his sofa. 

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologized, kicking some clothes out of the way, and taking a seat next to you. “I don’t get many visitors.”

“Why not?” you asked.  
  


“I’m not good with social interaction,” he said honestly. “That’s why I wrote under a pen name. Didn’t want the notoriety.”

“So why did you write the books?” you asked. 

“I don’t know...it just feels like it’s something I’m supposed to do,” he said slowly. “The ideas just come to me...and I can’t rest until I put them down on paper. It’s like...my calling or something.”

“Maybe you are a prophet,” you said thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you summon Cas here and ask?” Chuck suggested.

“Eh...I’m still mad at him for the whole Uriel thing,” you sighed. 

“Right,” Chuck nodded. “Hey can I see the brand?”

“Sure,” you said, peeling back your sleeve.

“Wow, that…..looks like it hurt,” Chuck said, wincing. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” you laughed. “You didn’t do this. Cas did. Or according to him, God did it...but who knows”

“You don’t think it was God?” he asked. 

“I don’t know what to think,” you told him. “I mean, we still don’t really know what it is or why it appeared.”

“You don’t know?” Chuck asked surprised. “You mean, Castiel didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what? He said that no one in heaven had ever heard of this happening. He said his superiors chalked it up to...he’s supposed to guard me or whatever,” you said. 

“They lied to him,” Chuck said with a sigh. 

  
He got up and walked over to his desk. He rummaged around in the drawers for a moment before pulling out a stack of papers. He walked back over to you and handed it to you. 

  
“I think you should read this,” he said awkwardly. “I’ll just go...uh...do some editing on the last chapter.”

With that, he stumbled back over to his desk and began typing away. You sent him a confused look, but turned your attention to the stack of papers in your hands and began to read. 


	8. The Will of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens in this slowest of burns! I'm sorry/not sorry for the slow buildup. I thrive on the angst. Don't worry, we're getting to some action!
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting. You guys are the best.

Chapter 8

  
  


The sound of Chuck awaking in a gasping panic roused you out of the stupor you were in. 

“Chuck?” you called, getting off the couch and making your way to his desk, clutching the manuscript in your fist.

He was breathing hard, a frantic look in his eyes. He looked up at you fearfully. 

“What happened?” you asked.

“I...I had another dream. I have to write it down fast, before I forget,” he said, and he promptly began typing away at his keyboard.

“Woah, woah, woah!” you called. “Chuck, take a breath. What’s going on?”

“It’s how I get my ideas. I dream them,” he said without taking his eyes off his computer screen. “I know what’s about to happen, and it’s not good. You better get Sam and Dean over here. They’ll want to hear this.” 

“Ok,” you nodded. 

You pulled out your phone and dialed Dean. After a quick conversation, Dean agreed to come back to Chuck’s house as fast as he could. You hung up and looked contemplatively at Chuck, who was furiously typing away.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he said distractedly.

  
“Sorry,” you said quickly, looking away. 

“Go ahead and ask,” he said, pausing his fingers on the keys. 

“I was just wondering...what you wrote about me and Cas. How...how do you know for sure it’s accurate?” you asked, trying to ignore the blush that was spreading across your face. 

“Well...until about an hour and a half ago I didn’t think it was accurate!” he laughed. “But...you’ve seen the books. I haven’t been wrong so far...down to the last detail. I get the dreams, and I write them. That’s all I know.”

“Oh,” you said in a small voice. 

  
Chuck gave you a sympathetic look. 

“Hey...for what it’s worth...I really liked writing that dream. And knowing now that it’s not just a dream and that it’s actually happening in real life...well it gives me a sense of hope,” Chuck told you. “Like even in the midst of all this chaos...beautiful things are still happening. And that’s why the apocalypse needs to be stopped.”

“You’re a good writer, Chuck,” you said with a small smile. “Do me a favor though. Can you...not tell Sam or Dean about this?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he said with a grin, turning his attention back to the chapter he was working on. 

You stuffed the papers into your jacket pocket, mind still racing at what you had just read. You would have to tell Cas. He needed to know that Zacharia lied to him, that heaven was lying to him. But how would you even begin to bring up that conversation? Would he even believe you? You sighed and stared at the mark that had changed everything, wondering why. Why out of all the beings in the universe had an angel been bound to you?

* * *

  
  
  


Sam and Dean showed up right as Chuck was printing his new chapter. Chuck paced around the room nervously. The last page popped out of the tray, and Chuck snatched it up glancing over the words. 

“So... You wrote another chapter?” Sam said, prompting the writer to speak. 

“This was all so much easier before you were real,” Chuck sighed reluctantly. 

“We can take it; just spit it out,” Dean assured him.

Chuck looked at Dean. “You especially are not gonna like this.”

“I didn't like hell,” Dean said bluntly.

“It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam,” Chuck said to the room at large. 

“Coming to kill him?” Dean guessed. 

“When?” Sam asked at once. 

“Tonight,” Chuck said. 

“She's just gonna show up? Here?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

Chuck pulled out a pair of reading glasses and took a seat on the sofa. He began to read his newly printed chapter. 

“‘Lilith patted the bed seductively. Unable to deny his desire, Sam succumbed, and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion.’,” he read. 

Sam laughed. 

“You think this is funny?” Dean asked, an air of anger lacing his voice. 

“You don't? I mean, come on. Fiery demonic passion?

“It's just a first draft,” Chuck muttered defensively. 

“Wait..is Lillith still wearing a little girl?” you asked quickly.

“No, uh, this time she's a ‘comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana’,” Chuck said, glancing over his papers. 

“Great. Perfect. So what happens after the... "fiery demonic" whatever?” Dean asked rolling his eyes. 

“I don't know, it hasn't come to me yet,” Chuck said apologetically. 

“Dean, look, there's nothing to worry about. Lilith and me? In bed?” Sam said in disbelief. 

You shared a look with Dean, clearly thinking the same thing. 

“How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?” Dean asked, turning to Chuck.

“You mean my process?” Chuck asked.

“Yes, your "process." Dean huffed. 

“Well, it usually starts with a headache. A really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so... I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened, I thought it was just a crazy dream,” he admitted. “But it flowed together. It just, it kept flowing. It still does. I-I can't stop it, really.”

“You can't seriously believe –” Sam started.

“Sam, everything he’s written so far...down to the last freaking detail has come true,” you said quickly. “He even wrote about the bad gas station hot dog Dean ate!”

“Yeah, you really didn’t need to write that one down,” Dean told Chuck with a frown. “Look, why don't we, we just...see what’s what.”

Chuck handed Dean the papers.

“Knew you were gonna ask for that. Yeah,” Chuck nodded. 

“Right...In the mean time, I say we get out of dodge. If Lillith knows we’re here, we gotta get far away before tonight,” Dean said. 

After exchanging phone numbers for future reference with Chuck, you said your goodbyes to the author. You even gave him a small hug, surprising the man. 

“Take care of yourself,” you said. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Yeah...you too,” he said, awkwardly patting you on the back. 

“I think Chuck had a crush on you,” Dean smirked from the front seat of the Impala as you headed away from his house. 

“Definitely not,” you said with an awkward laugh. “He’s a nice guy though. It must be rough on him now, knowing all he knows but having no way to change it.”

“It’s even rougher on us. We have to live through it,” Dean grumbled. 

“It’s not all bad,” you said thoughtfully, staring out the backseat window. 

* * *

  
  


Trying to escape town proved to be a failure, so Dean’s grand idea was to do everything opposite of what Chuck had written. He even had you change clothes. 

“He describes you in that exact outfit, so go in there and get something you’d never normally wear!” Dean ordered, shoving you into a clothing store.

You sighed in annoyance, but complied, knowing that this wouldn’t change a damn thing. Still, you couldn’t fault the elder Winchester for at least trying to stop Sam from climbing into bed with yet another demon. You ended up picking out a white sundress with white Keds. You never wore white or dresses, so you figured it would appease Dean. He smirked as you walked out of the shop.

“Well look at you,” he laughed. 

  
“Ugh, I feel so...wholesome,” you groaned. 

“Let me take a picture to send to Bobby,” Dean teased, aiming his phone at you. 

Dean took a picture right as you were flipping him off. 

“Oh yeah real wholesome,” Dean laughed. 

The three of you ate dinner at the little diner in town and Dean made you all get what you normally wouldn’t. You begrudgingly ate your rare steak, trying not to gag on it and dreaming longingly of a chocolate milkshake. Afterwards, you booked a room at the sleaziest motel you could find in town. 

“Couldn’t we stay somewhere that doesn’t charge by the hour?” you asked looking around the dirty room.

“The book says Lilith finds Sam at the Red Motel. Hence, the uh, hooker inn. It's opposite day, remember?” Dean argued, pulling out some hex bags and placing them around the room. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. 

“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m Lillith proofing the room,” he said. 

“So, what? I'm supposed to just hole up here all night?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“That's exactly what you're gonna do, okay? And no research. I don't care what you do – use the Magic Fingers or watch Casa Erotica on Pay-Per-View,” he said taking Sam’s laptop from his bag. 

“What are you gonna do?” Sam asked. 

“Well, the pages say that I spend all day riding around in the Impala. So I'm gonna go park her. Behave yourself, would you? No homework. Watch some porn,” Dean ordered. He looked down at the papers in his hand, and turned to you. “It says here that you stay here with Sam and take a nap, so guess you’re coming with me.”

“Damn...I really could use a nap,” you sighed. 

“Sorry, kiddo. We’ll get you an energy drink on the way,” he said, before heading out the door.

You shot a sympathetic look at Sam and reluctantly followed. 

* * *

“I was gone for 5 minutes! What the hell happened here?” you asked, clutching your newly purchased energy drink. 

Dean stopped fitting the tarp onto the smashed rear windshield. He glared back at you angrily and you noticed pink flowered bandaids that adorned his face. 

“Friggin Chuck!” he shouted. “It came true. All of it! I’m tired of this shit, we’re going to talk to him and get this straightened out once and for all!”

You sighed but got into the impala. As Dean drove, you sent a warning text to Chuck letting him know you were on the way over. Dean fumed as he drove, egged on by the sound of the tarp flapping in the breeze. Chuck wasn’t there when you arrived, but Dean took it upon himself to break in. Chuck arrived shortly afterwards, carrying a 6 pack. He sighed at the sight of the pair of you sitting on his sofa. 

“Dean…(y/n),” he greeted you both before taking in Dean’s injured face. “You look terrible.”

“That's 'cause I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck,” Dean spat angrily.

“Oh,” Chuck said sympathetically with a grimace.

“That it? Every damn thing you write about me comes true; that’s all you have to say is "oh"?!” Dean shouted.

“Dean, don’t yell at him. This isn’t his fault,” you scolded.

“Isn’t it though? Whatever he writes, comes true,” he said before turning to the author. “Why do I get feeling there's something that you're not telling us?”

“What wouldn’t I be telling you?” Chuck asked, intimidated as Dean got up and started towards him. 

“How you know what you know, for starters!” Dean shouted, getting in Chuck’s face.

“I don't know how I know, I just do!” Chuck said desperately.

“That’s not good enough,” Dean breathed. He grabbed Chuck and shoved him against the wall. “How the hell are you doing this!?”

“Dean!” you shouted, grabbing the back of Dean’s jacket. “Let him go!”

But it wasn’t just your voice. Cas appeared and echoed your words. Your stomach dropped. Dean let Chuck go and turned towards the angel. 

“This man is to be protected,” Cas told him. 

“Why?” Dean asked.

“He's a Prophet of the Lord,” Castiel replied. 

Silence rang throughout the room as everyone stared at the angel. 

“Called it!” you cried, raising a hand in the air to break the tension.

Cas met your eyes, and he seemed taken aback for a moment. You remembered your new choice of wardrobe and blushed, embarrassed. 

“You... You're Castiel... aren't you?” Chuck breathed, his eyes wide as he stared at the angel in a trenchcoat. 

“It's an honor to meet you, Chuck. I... admire your work,” Chuck told the man.

“Yeah...I bet,” Chuck grinned. 

You shot the author a glare. Cas picked up a copy of Supernatural and began leafing through it. 

“Whoa, whoa, what? This guy, a prophet? Come on, he's – he's... he's practically a Penthouse Forum writer!” Dean said unconvinced. “This is the guy who decides our fate?”

“He isn't deciding anything. He's a mouthpiece – a conduit for the inspired word,” Cas explained. 

“The word? The word of god? What, like the new new testament?” Dean asked.

“One day, these books – they'll be known as the Winchester gospel,” Cas said seriously. 

“Woah…” you breathed. 

“You got to be kidding me,” Dean and Chuck said at the same time. 

“I am not... kidding you,” Cas told them. 

“If you'd both please excuse me one minute,” Chuck said before rushing off upstairs, clearly on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

“Poor guy,” you said sympathetically. 

“You should've seen Luke,” Cas said amused. 

“So who chooses the prophets?” you asked. “Who sends him the visions?”

“I don't know how prophets are chosen. The order comes from high up on the celestial chain of command,” he said.

“How high?” Dean asked. 

“Very,” Cas replied. 

“Well...how do we get around this? The Sam-Lilith love connection. How do we stop it from happening?” Dean asked quickly. 

“What the prophet has written can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass,” Cas told him. 

Dean stared at the angel angrily.

“Nah...screw that. We’re getting out of here. Come on, (y/n),” Dean said, heading out the front door. 

You looked at Cas timidly. 

“So...everything that Chuck writes is completely true? There’s no way he could be wrong about something he’s seen?” 

“No. Everything he sees is the word of God. There is no mistaking or changing it,” he told you.

“Right,” you muttered, looking away. 

“What is it?” Cas asked, tilting his head to one side as he regarded you.

“(Y/N)!” Dean called from outside.

“Uh…I better go. See you later,” you stuttered, and without glancing back you rushed out to meet Dean. 

* * *

Dean was still fuming when you both arrived back at the motel. He stormed into the room without preamble.

“Come on. We're getting out of here,” he barked at Sam as he began gathering up his things. 

“Anywhere, okay? Out of this motel, out of this town. I don't care if we got to swim, we are getting out,” Dean said. He stopped gathering up his stuff and looked around confused. “Dude, where are all the hex bags?”

“I burned them,” Sam said.

“What? Why?!” you exclaimed. 

“Look, if Lilith is coming, which is a big "if" – Sam began.

“No, she’s definitely coming!” you shouted, gathering up your own stuff now. You shrugged on your jacket from earlier over the sundress. “Turns out I was right. Chuck’s a prophet after all.”

“What?” Sam asked in surprise.

“Cas showed up, and apparently Chuck is writing the gospel of us,” Dean explained. 

“Okay…” Sam said slowly.

“Okay. Let's get the hell out of here,” Dean said, slugging his bag over his shoulder.

“No,” Sam said simply.

“No?” you asked in disbelief.

“Lilith is gonna slaughter you,” Dean said shaking his head at his brother’s stupidity.

“Sam, you can’t take her. We need to leave and regroup and figure out a plan to take her down,” you told the taller brother. 

“No, I’m tired of running. I say bring her on,” Sam said with conviction.

“Sam…” Dean began.

“You think I'll do it, don't you? You think I'll go dark side,” Sam accused.

“Yes! Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately? The things you've been doing?” Dean said honestly, earning a surprised look from both you and Sam. “Like how you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly?”

“Your psychic abilities seem to be getting stronger and it’s honestly scaring us,” you agreed, taking Dean’s side on this. “Why are your powers growing when you aren’t supposed to be using them?”

“It's not what you think,” Sam said weakly.

“Then what is it, Sam? 'Cause I'm at a total loss,” Dean asked desperately. 

Sam remained silent, unwilling to explain his actions. Dean shook his head, disappointed. He grabbed his bag again and walked towards the door. He stopped and looked back at his brother, giving him one last chance. 

“Are you coming or not?” Dean asked. 

Dean paused and seemed to think things over. With a growl he threw his bag into the chair by the door before storming out. 

You sighed, rubbing a hand through your hair.

“Whatever you think you’re going to do with this psychic stuff...it’s not worth all this Sam,” you said quietly. 

  
Sam remained silent and you sighed. 

“I’ll go check on Dean,” you told him. 

You left the room with your hands in your pocket. You felt the papers you had taken from Chuck and thanked the universe that Sam or Dean hadn’t found them. You looked around and spotted Dean by the vending machine. To your surprise, Cas was with him. You headed over to the pair of them.

“Drag Sam out of here, now. Before Lilith shows up,” Dean begged the angel.

“It's a prophecy. I can't interfere,” Cas told him.

  
“Nothing at all?” you asked. “There has to be something.”

“I’m sorry,” Cas apologized to you. “What you're asking, it's... not within my power to do.”

“Why? 'Cause it's ‘divine prophecy’?” Dean scoffed.

“Yes,” Cas said shortly. 

“Screw you. You and your mission. Your God. If you don't help me now, then when the time comes and you need me... don't bother knocking,” Dean warned him before rushing past him.

You grabbed Cas’ hand and he stared at you.

“Please Cas,” you whispered. “We can’t let Sam die. Is there anything you can tell us that might help.”

Cas sighed and tightened his grip on your hand resolutely before letting your hand fall.

“Dean,” he called, stopping the man in his tracks. 

“What?!” Dean shouted angrily.

“You must understand why I can't intercede. Prophets are very special. They're protected,” Cas said slowly.

“I get that,” Dean grumbled.

“If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying weapon,” Cas said pointedly. 

You could see the gears turning in Dean’s head and knew he had come to the same conclusion as you.

“So these archangels are bound to the prophets,” you suggested.

“Yes,” Cas said.

“So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon –” Dean began.

“Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon. Just so you understand... why I can't help,” Cas said cleverly.

“Thanks, Cas,” Dean said, rushing back to the motel room.

You turned to the angel. 

“Thank you, really,” you told him. 

“Are you still angry with me?” Cas asked suddenly.

“What? Oh, no, not really,” you said nervously. “Listen...I’ve got to go make sure they don’t do anything stupid, but there’s something I think you need to see.”

You pulled out the papers from inside your jacket pocket.    
  
“I took these from Chuck’s house. It’s about us. It explains the brand. Um...if you want to talk about it when this is all over, that would be fine. Or not...yeah. Here.”

You handed him the stack of papers and took off after Dean before you could make an even bigger fool of yourself. 

* * *

After forcibly retrieving Chuck, something you apologized many times to the author for, you headed back to the motel. You got there just in time too. When the three of you burst into the room, a very pretty blonde woman was straddling Sam, holding a knife up about to plunge it into Sam’s heart. 

“I am the prophet Chuck!” Chuck announced shakily.

“You've got to be joking,” Lilith huffed, climbing off Sam and stomping towards the man in question.

You stepped in front of him, blocking her path, holding out your gun threateningly. 

“Like that’s gonna stop me,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah...you’re probably right,” you said, putting the gun away as the wall began to rattle ominously. “But the thing that’s tethered to Chuck here...well it will do way more damage than my bullets.”

“You see, Chuck here's got an archangel on his shoulder. You've got about 10 seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal. You sure you want to tangle with that?” Dean said cockily.

Lilith shot one last look at Sam before screaming, black smoke pouring from her vessel’s mouth. The vessel dropped to the ground lifelessly. 

  
“Poor woman,” you sighed, checking for a pulse but feeling nothing. “What a shitty way to go out.”

* * *

Even with the chilly night air flapping through the Impala from the broken rear windshield, you managed to fall asleep in the backseat, buried underneath Sam’s jacket. The day had been very mentally taxing and you were quite exhausted when all was said and done. 

You knew you were asleep when you found yourself sitting on the porch of the same lakehouse that Cas had visited you in before. This time, it was night out. Thousands of stars shone bright above you, reflected on the surface of the black waters below. This house must have been far away from any cities or towns. You only got stunningly bright stars like this when you were a trek away from any source of light pollution. 

You looked out and noticed a dock reaching out across the lake. At the end of it, there was a figure sitting. You knew that trenchcoated silhouette anywhere. You wrapped the blanket that had appeared on your shoulders tighter, and walked down to meet him. He was staring up at the night sky, the moonlight lighting up his features. 

“Hello Castiel,” you said timidly. 

He said nothing, just continued to stare up at the moon. You sat down beside him, wrapping yourself in your blanket.

“It’s beautiful,” you said, gazing upwards as well. “Is this a real place?”

“Yes,” he said softly. “It is located in the mountains of Montana, just east of Eureka.”

“Oh,” you whispered. 

Silence fell between you and you began to feel anxious. What if he was angry at what Chuck had written? You wouldn’t blame him. He was a freaking angel of heaven and you were a human. You weren’t worthy enough to be bound to a creature like him. You were pretty sure you had broken at least half of the 10 commandments. You were definitely not holy enough for the likes of him.

“I can feel your anxiety,” he said suddenly, looking at you. “It wasn’t noticeable before...not until the whole debacle with Dean and Alastair. The bond between us must be getting stronger.”

“Wait...so you’re saying you can feel my emotions?” you asked with wide eyes.

“I believe so,” he said, his voice low. “And the more emotions I exhibit, the more you will feel them.”

“How...do you know this?” you stuttered.

“It is an ability that is gifted to all soul mates,” he said looking away. “Though...there has never been a pairing like ours.”

His brow furrowed and you could feel something radiating from him...the hint of an emotion, but it was hard to place. 

“Are you angry?” you asked in a small voice. 

“Angry?” he asked, turning towards you. “Why would I be angry?”

“I mean...I’m not exactly qualified to be your uh...soul mate,” you finished in barely a whisper.

“There are no qualifications,” he told you. “No angel has ever had a soulmate before. Such an incredibly rare gift is reserved for humans. Angles... we don’t have souls. We have our Grace instead.”

“So...why now? Why you?” you asked him. 

“Those are questions that could only be answered by God himself,” Cas said, taking a step towards you. “For this is truly his will. Only God himself can create soulmates, as only God can create souls.”

Cas reached out slowly and brushed the hair away from your face, staring at you in wonder. Your heartbeat sped to unnatural levels and you shivered at his touch, feeling a warmth rush through you. 

“The more time we spend around each other, the stronger this bond will become,” he warned you. “That much is true of all soul mates.”

“Do all soul mates have each other's names branded into them?” you asked.

“No,” he replied. “They carry a mark on their souls, linking them to each other. I’m not sure why my name was branded into your skin, yet yours was not branded into mine.”

“Maybe because it’s not your skin,” you theorized. “It’s your vessel.”

“That is a possibility,” he nodded. “Have you told Sam or Dean?”

“No...I wanted to tell you first. If you don’t mind...do you think we can just not tell them for a while?” you asked. “I really don’t want to deal with their over protectiveness...not when we’re still figuring all of this out.”

“I think that would be wise,” Cas agreed. “At least until we know more about the effects this will bring.”

“This is gonna get complicated, isn’t it?” you sighed.

“I’m afraid so,” he said honestly. “I am sorry.”

“Well...out of all the angels I could have been bound to,” you started, laying your head against his shoulder. “I’m glad it was you.”

He was silent for a moment, but slowly, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

“I am too,” he whispered. 

  
You stared up at the stars with a soft smile on your lips, enjoying the warmth Castiel’s body was radiating. You didn’t see the soft smile he was also wearing as he stared down at you. 


	9. Almost Human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't feel great about this chapter, but I just couldn't omit Jimmy. I feel like he's a huge part of Castiel's transformation from mindless drone to free thinker. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9 

It had been a couple days and you hadn’t heard anything from Castiel. He had told you he had some things he needed to discuss with his superiors, now that he knew the two of you were soul mates. According to him, this wasn’t going to go over smoothly in heaven, but..it was the word of God so the other angels had to accept it. You had really tried focusing and paying attention to any emotions that weren’t yours. You had begun to feel the edges of what you assumed to be his, a mixture of frustration and dread. You were really starting to worry about him as the feelings grew, and you were relieved when you went to sleep began to dream of your usual spot.

You smiled, staring out at the lake. You were already standing on the end of the dock this time, watching as storm clouds began rolling over the lake. You heard the rustle of wings behind you and you turned to meet him. 

“Cas,” you breathed. “I was just starting to worry.”

“Listen to me very carefully,” he said at once, concern written all over his face. “We need to talk face to face, somewhere private. Somewhere we won’t be overheard.”

“You mean..someone else is listening to my dreams?” you asked in surprise. 

“They may be,” he said, looking around.

“Cas, what’s going on?” you asked in concern. 

“I can’t tell you here, it’s not safe. I need you to get Dean and meet me here,” he told you quickly, handing you a piece of paper. “I need to tell you both something very important.”

You opened it and memorized the address. 

“Ok, sure,” you nodded. 

“And...if something happens...just know I’m truly very sorry,” he said, giving you an apologetic look.

Without waiting for you to respond, he placed his hand upon your cheek and you instantly awoke in your bed. You grabbed your phone from beside your bed and dialed Dean at once. 

* * *

  
  


You pulled up to the abandoned warehouse right as Dean and Sam arrived. They parked beside you and you got out of the car.

“Thanks for meeting me here so late,” you told the boys, thankful they were close by when you had called. 

“Of course,” Dean said, opening his trunk and pulling out the demon knife and his gun. “So Cas didn’t say what was so important it couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No...but...he almost sounded scared,” you told him. “Whatever he needs to tell us, it’s huge.”

“Let’s go find out then,” Dean said, leading the way into the building. 

The inside was absolutely destroyed. Metal stairs were twisted, exposed wiring was hanging from the ceiling emitting dangerous sparks, there was rubble everywhere...it looked like a bomb went off in the place. 

“What the hell?” Dean whispered as you all wrestled your way through the debris. 

“Cas,” you breathed, staring around. “What did they do to you?”

“It looks like there was a fight here,” Dean said. 

“Look!” Sam cried, pointing his flashlight over at the wall. 

Blood was smeared on it, painted in a particular symbol. 

“Anna used something like that to wish the angels back to the cornfield,” Dean said. 

“So what Cas was fighting angels?” Sam asked aloud.

“Oh God,” you breathed. 

Had the angels not accepted the news you were Cas’ soul mate? Had they forbid it, even though it was the word of God? Was this all your fault?

A moan coming from under some rubble broke you out of your thoughts. 

“Cas!” you cried, running over to help the man from underneath a mangled metal shelf. 

“What's . . . ? What's . . . ? What's going on?” he mumbled, and you froze.

  
That wasn’t Cas’ voice. The man stared up at you with recognition, but somehow, you knew. Castiel was no longer present.

“You...you’re not Castiel,” you whispered.   
  
The man shook his head, and winced at the pain. 

“Just take it easy. Take it easy,” Dean told the man, helping him to his feet. 

“Castiel…. I'm not Castiel. It's me,” the man realized slowly with wide eyes. 

“Who's 'me'?” Sam asked.

“Jimmy. My name's Jimmy,” he told him. 

“Jimmy...where is Castiel?” you asked him.

  
Jimmy looked at you with something akin to sympathy. 

“He...he’s gone,” he said.

“Gone where?” you asked urgently.

“I don’t know...just gone...out of me. Oh wow, I am starving,” he said clutching his stomach. 

“Ok, let’s get you something to eat and we can head back to the motel and...figure all this out,” Dean suggested. 

You told him you’d meet them at the motel down the road where they had been staying.

_Cas...where are you?_ You prayed as you drove. _I’m really freaking out down here, so could you send me a sign you’re okay?_

No one answered you. You concentrated, and you could definitely still feel his presence. You knew he was still alive...but apart from that you felt nothing. You sighed, pulling into the parking lot of the motel. Maybe Jimmy would have some answers. 

Inside, Jimmy was tearing ravenously into a stack of burgers. Sam and Dean were watching him with curiosity and disgust. Jimmy moaned into his burger. You took a seat across from the man. He looked like Cas on the outside...but every part of you instinctively knew that Castiel was not in there. It was as clear as night and day. You felt nothing for the man sitting across from you, except maybe a vague curiosity. 

“Dude...You mind slowing down? You're gonna give me angina,” Dean suggested. 

“I'm hungry,” Jimmy declared around a mouthful.

“When's the last time you ate?” Sam asked curiously.

“I don't know... Months?” Jimmy said. 

“Angels don’t need to eat,” you supplied and Jimmy nodded, tearing into another burger. 

“Jimmy, do you remember what happened to Cas?” you asked him. 

He shook his head. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t. All I remember is a flash of light and I, uh . . . I woke up and I was just, you know, like, me again.”

“Do you remember anything about being possessed?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, bits and pieces. I mean, angel inside of you, it's kinda like being chained to a comet,” Jimmy supplied. 

You frowned. You had never really given much thought to the fact that the vessel the angel had worn had been a real person that could still be in there. The thought disturbed you. 

“Cas said he needed to tell us something important. Do you remember what he needed to tell us?” you asked.

Jimmy shrugged. 

“Sorry.”

“Come on, what do you know?” Dean asked agitated. 

“My name is Jimmy Novak. I'm from Pontiac, Illinois. I have a wife and daughter,” he told you. “I need to go to them.”

He stood suddenly and headed for the door.   
  
“Woah! Just hang on a minute there buddy,” Dean said, stopping him. “Just give us a second okay? Sam...a word please?”

Sam followed his brother out of the motel. You gave Jimmy a sympathetic look. 

“Sorry about them,” you offered. “They’re not the greatest with hospitality.”

“I just want to go home,” he sighed. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my family.”

“I’m sure they miss you very much,” you told him. “We’ll get you home as soon as we can.”

You frowned, wondering if Jimmy went home….where would that leave Cas? You didn’t want to keep Jimmy imprisoned..but you also wanted Castiel back. Would Cas just take a different vessel?

“Do you...Can you tell if Castiel is still alive?” Jimmy asked. 

You looked up, and he was looking at the brand on your arm.

“I think so...I still feel his pull,” you muttered slowly. “I can tell he’s alive...but I can’t feel anything else from him.”

“I’m sorry,” he told you. “I wish I could tell you what happened.”

“It’s okay Jimmy,” you assured him. “I don’t blame you for anything. But could you do me a favor and keep all the...soul bond stuff between us?”

“Sure, sure,” Jimmy nodded, offering you a small smile. “But uh...just between us? I don’t remember a lot about when I was possessed...but I remember how he felt about you. Honestly, I was glad when he found you. The way he cared for you...It was almost like being human again.”

You swallowed thickly, trying to swallow the emotion that was threatening to overwhelm you.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” you managed in barely a whisper. 

* * *

Jimmy escaped during the night, refusing to believe that demons might come after him. He didn’t know anything after all. You had been in the next room over, praying for Cas to answer you. He hadn’t. Sam and Dean were supposed to be watching Jimmy, but Sam dropped the ball on that one. Apparently the man had escaped while Sam went to get a Coke. 

You did some quick research and found the only missing person’s report that had been filed for a ‘Jimmy’ in Pontiac, Illinois a year ago. A few seconds later, you had Jimmy Novak’s last known address. That was definitely where he was headed. You decided to ride with Sam and Dean this time. You nearly jumped out of your skin when Anna suddenly appeared sitting beside you.

“Hey guys,” she greeted.

“Ah! Jeez!” Dean shouted, jerking the wheel of the impala. 

“Smooth,” Anna smirked. 

“You ever try calling ahead?” Dean growled, looking at the angel in his rearview mirror.

“I like the element of surprise,” she smiled.

“Well, you look terrific,” Dean flirted. 

“Um, yeah, not the most appropriate time, Dean,“ she said throwing him a look. 

“Anna...please tell me you know what happened to Cas,” you asked her desperately.

  
She stared at you with pity, giving you the impression she knew your secret. 

“He got sent back home. Well, more like dragged back,” she told you.

“To heaven? That's not a good thing?” Dean asked. 

“No. That's a very bad thing. Painfully, awfully bad. He must have seriously pissed someone off,” she looked at you pointedly. 

Shit...she definitely knew...and this was definitely your fault. You swallowed. 

“Cas...he said he had something very important to tell me and Dean,” you said slowly.

“What?” she asked at once.

“I don't know,” you shook your head. “He was supposed to tell us last night, but we found Jimmy instead.”

“And Jimmy doesn’t know?” she guessed.

  
“He says he doesn’t,” you replied. 

“Well you gotta find out for sure. Whatever it is, it's huge,” she told you. 

“That's why we're going after Jimmy,” Sam supplied. 

“That's why you shouldn't have let him go in the first place. He's probably dead already,” she sighed. 

“Anna...do you think Cas will be okay?” you asked her timidly.

“I don't know.. He’s been sent back to heaven for...reconditioning. And trust me when I say, the might of Heaven is brutal,” she told you honestly. 

You looked away, trying to hide the desperate concern in your eyes. 

* * *

When the three of you arrived, it was just in the knick of time. A pair of demons were attacking the Novak’s. They had almost managed to kill Jimmy’s wife, but you were able to save her in time with the demon knife. Sam tried to exorcise one of the demons, but fell to his knees out of breath. 

“Aw. Can't get it up, can you, Sam?” sneered the female demon.

“No, but I can,” Dean said, catching the knife you threw in his direction. He made to stab her, but the demon expelled from the woman's body and she fell to the floor lifeless. 

You had to sit up front, squeezed between Sam and Dean to be able to fit all the Novak’s in the Impala with you, but you made due. You noticed Sam seemed to be panting rather hard and sort of twitching.

“You ok, Sammy?” you asked in concern.

“I’m fine!” he growled. 

Both you and Dean shot him a look.

“Sorry…” Sam muttered. 

You glanced at Dean from the corner of your eye. He was wearing the same troubled expression that you were. Something was definitely wrong with the younger Winchester. 

* * *

  
  


You took the family to an empty parking garage, trying to plan out your next move. 

“You were right,” Jimmy told Dean as you all stood around the Impala. Jimmy’s wife was comforting their daughter a few feet away.

“I'm sorry we were,” Dean apologized.

“I'm telling you, I don't know anything,” Jimmy begged. 

“I don’t think the demons are going to accept that,” you shrugged. 

“And even if they did, you're a vessel. They're still gonna wanna know what makes you tick,” Sam said.

“Which means vivisection, if they're feeling generous,” Dean finished. 

“I'm gonna tell you once again, you're putting your family in danger. You have to come with us,” Sam said, a hint of anger in his voice. 

“How long? And don't give me that "cross that bridge when we get to it" crap.” Jimmy asked. 

“Don't you get it? Forever. The demons will never stop. You can never be with your family. So you either get as far away from them as possible or you put a bullet in your head,” Sam spat. 

  
“Sam!” you shouted. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but you need to seriously chill.”

“I'm just telling him the truth, (y/n). Someone has to,” he replied. 

  
  
  


* * *

Jimmy agreed to do the right thing and left with you, telling his family to go away for a while and visit family. Exhausted from the day’s efforts, he fell asleep in the backseat beside you. Dean drove, heading for your house. You had all figured he would be safest there where you and your father could look after him. 

“What the hell happened back there?” Dean asked his brother.

“What?” Sam asked.

“You practically fainted trying to gank a demon,” Dean said. 

“Okay, I didn't faint. I got a little dizzy,” Sam scoffed. 

“Well, you can call it whatever you want. Point is, you used to be strong enough to kill Alastair. Now you can't even kill a stunt-demon number three?” Dean argued. 

“Not to mention all the twitching and angry outbursts,” you supplied from the backseat. “You’re acting like Dad when I made him quit smoking.”

“What do you want me to say about it?” Sam sighed. 

“Well for starters, what's going on with your mojo? I mean, it's yo-yoing all over the place. I'm not trying to pick a fight here, okay? I just – you're scaring me, man,” Dean told his brother. 

“I'm scaring myself,” Sam whispered ominously. 

Sam’s phone rang and he answered it. 

“It’s for Jimmy,” he said.

You shook the man beside you awake. 

“It’s your wife,” Sam said, handing him the phone. 

“Amelia?” Jimmy said into the phone. Suddenly a horrified expression flitted across his face. “Oh my god.”

* * *

“Nice plan, Dean,” you muttered, struggling against the demon who was restraining you. 

The plan to ambush the demons while they were distracted with Jimmy had failed miserably. 

“Yeah, well, nobody bats 1,000,” Dean sighed. 

“Got the knife?” the demon wearing Jimmy’s wife asked.

The demon holding Sam back held up the demon knife. Demon-Ameila smirked in triumph.

“And to think, I was actually bummed at getting this deal. But then who turns up in my lap but the Winchesters! Must be my lucky day,” she smiled wickedly. “Now for the punch line. Everybody dies.”

She raised a gun and fired a shot, hitting Jimmy directly in the stomach. Immediately, he fell to his knees. 

“NO!” you screamed. 

“Waste little orphan Annie,” Demon-Amelia instructed one of her cohorts. 

  
You watched as the demon prowled over to the little girl who was restrained in the chair. Suddenly, you felt a warmth emanating from your brand. Your breath hitched. Castiel was back. 

You saw the little girl Claire easily catch the pipe that was meant to crush her skull. She placed her other hand on the demon’s head and exorcised him back to hell. The demons holding you back released you in surprise, and you immediately sprung into action. You landed a blow on the demon and knocked him back long enough for you to retrieve the knife you had hidden in your boot. With a swift flick of your wrist, you managed to slice through his neck. He grunted, and went to back hand you...but his hand was caught by Castiel who was possessing Claire. A second later, the demon was exorcised. 

You turned to look at Castiel, but something caught the corner of your eye. Sam was drinking from the neck of one of the demons. He stood and turned to face you all, blood smeared all around his mouth. You stared at him with horror and disgust. Sam turned away, and stabbed the demon with the knife, killing her. 

Sam then turned towards Amelia, and exorcised the demon from inside her with ease. Apparently his powers were back up and running thanks to the demon blood he had just consumed. Your stomach flipped in revlusion. 

Castiel walked over to Jimmy who was bleeding out on the floor. 

“Of course we keep our promises. Of course you have our gratitude. You served us well. Your work is done. It's time to go home now. Your real home. You'll rest forever in the fields of the Lord. Rest now, Jimmy,” Cas said softly. 

Jimmy begged for Cas to take him back as a vessel and leave his daughter.

  
“As you wish,” Cas agreed. 

In a flash of light, Cas was back in Jimmy’s body. Claire, now herself again ran to her mother. 

Cas stood up and turned. He barely glanced at you before he made his way towards the exit. 

“Cas, hold up. What were you gonna tell us?” Dean asked.

“I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you,” Cas said gruffly. 

He turned to leave again but you reached out and stopped him.

“Cas,” you breathed shakily. “What happened? What did they do to you?”

“They taught me the error of my ways, especially where you are concerned,” he said brushing you off. “It was a lesson I won’t soon forget.”

And with that he was gone. 

* * *

As you were getting Amelia and Claire settled with a vehicle, Dean muttered in your ear to meet you back at your house to deal with Sam. You acquired your own car, and you called your dad to give him a heads up on what was headed his way while you drove like a bat out of hell to get home before Sam and Dean. Tears threatened to fall, but you pushed them back. No wasn’t the time to agonize over Castiel’s cold demeanor towards you. You had more pressing matters, like getting Sam the help he needed. The memory of him drinking from that demon’s neck washed over you and you gripped the steering wheel harder. What the hell was Sam thinking?

You made it home before Sam and Dean and helped your Dad ready the panic room like Dean had told you. A few moments later, you heard the roar of the impala reach your ears. You hid behind the open panic room door while your dad went to lure Sam down.

“Well, thanks for shaking a tail,” your dad said, leading the boys down the basement stairs.

“Yeah, you got it,” Dean said, playing along. 

“Go on inside. I wanna show you something,” your dad instructed. 

  
Sam walked in without hesitation.

“All right. So, uh, what's the big demon problem?” Sam asked.

“You are,” you replied, shutting the door on him and locking it. 

“This is for your own good,” your Dad told him.

He shut the window, ignoring Sam’s protests. 


	10. The Point of No Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooooOOOooooOOOooOOOOOOhhhh shit. 
> 
> Please enjoy.

Sam screamed your name, begging for you to help him from the hallucinations he was having. You were standing outside the door, keeping an eye on him. You had been there for the past 2 hours or so, watching as Sam’s condition rapidly deteriorated. You didn’t know if this was going to help him, but God you hoped he’d just get it out of his system and become the Sammy you used to know.

“You never gave a shit about me anyways!” Sam screamed at you through the iron door. “You always loved Dean more! You always just tag along wherever Dean goes and Dean is too nice to tell you to leave...You’re not family! You never were!”

You shut your eyes, trying to block out his words. He wasn’t in his right mind, you knew that. But still...it stung. You took a shaky breath and stood, deciding you had enough. You needed some fresh air. You stomped upstairs to find your Dad combing through the news stations. He looked up as you grabbed the whiskey bottle off his desk and took a big swig. 

“Hey kiddo, how’re you doin?” Dad asked. 

“Bad,” you sighed. 

“And Sam?” 

“Worse,” you said, taking another sip. “Where’s Dean?”

“Outside yelling himself hoarse for Cas,” he told you. 

“Yeah I hope he has better luck with that than I did,” you grumbled. 

You had tried to call the angel in question several times, but apparently he was ignoring you. You tried to focus on feeling out his emotions through the bond, but they were also quiet. It didn’t help that you weren’t exactly a pro at this yet. 

“Lemme see if I can get him inside,” you told your dad before making your way outside. 

You wandered your way through the salvage yard until you picked up the sound of Dean speaking to someone. You crept forwards until a familiar trench coat came into view. So he ignored your calls, but decided to answer Dean? You huffed in anger. 

Cas turned around, suddenly aware of your presence. You shot him a look, but glanced at Dean instead who looked a bit shaken.

“You alright?” you asked him. 

  
“I guess we’ll see,” Dean replied. “I just signed up for the celestial Army.”

“You what!?” you exclaimed. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that when it is time, Dean will do as he is asked,” Castiel said. 

“Without even knowing exactly what the hell these guys want for you, you just said yes?” you asked Dean again, ignoring the angel.

“Well it was either that or let Sam keep drinking demon blood and become a monster, so yeah. Easy call to make,” Dean argued. 

You sighed, shaking your head. 

“This is a good thing,” Castiel told you. “Dean is beginning to accept his god-given role.”

“Yeah, and what role is that?” you shot angrily. “Because you’ve been pretty vague on the details... and as I have recently learned, God-given roles don’t really mean shit to you.”

An awkward silence fell between the three of you. Dean looked puzzled, looking back and forth between the two of you. Cas sighed but held your gaze. 

“It...it still does mean something to me,” he said quietly. 

“Then why haven’t you been answering me?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ve prayed for you about a dozen times.”

“It’s complicated,” Cas said in a low voice, shooting a glance at Dean. “My superiors...they forbid me to come to you until it’s time.”

“Well isn’t that convenient,” you growled. 

“Wait a second,” Dean interjected, staring back and forth at you and Cas. “What the heck is going on here?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly before Cas could respond. “Just...forget it. Let’s go back inside and check on Sam.”

You shot Cas one last glare before heading back towards the house. A few moments later, Dean was hot on your heels. Castiel had the good sense to vanish.

“So….you wanna explain what the hell that was?” Dean asked you.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed.

“I’m talking about that lover's quarrel you and feathers just had,” Dean pressed. “Is there something going on between you two? Is he taking the whole guardian angel thing too far?”

“No,” you said quickly. “Of course not.”

“Good,” Dean said. “Because angel or not, I will shove my foot so far up his winged asshole if he tries anything with you.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about,” you lied, feeling slightly guilty. “He doesn’t feel human emotion, remember?”

A part of you wanted to tell Dean the truth, just to have someone to talk about everything with, but you knew it was a bad idea. For one, he had enough on his plate with Sam.... he really didn’t need another wrench thrown onto his overflowing pile. Also, he was Dean and he automatically hated the idea of anyone cozying up to you for more than a hug. You suddenly missed Pam fiercely. She would have been the perfect person to talk to about all of this. You followed Dean into the house, swallowing down the sudden sadness you felt. 

* * *

Sam escaped. How? No one seemed to know. All you knew was that he had knocked your Dad out while you and Dean were sleeping and had stolen one of his cars. Dean was off tracking him down. You had asked to come with him, but Dean decided against it. 

“He’s dangerous right now, I don’t want you getting caught in the crossfire. Besides,” Dean had told you. “This is something I gotta do alone.”

Well judging by the broken nose Dean was now sporting, maybe you should have ignored him and followed him anyways. You could have at least taken on that demon bitch Ruby. You handed Dean a bag of frozen peas, watching the older man groan in pain as he placed them on his swollen face. Apparently, negotiations had not gone well. 

He had explained that Sam had been with Ruby when he found them, no surprises there. But Sam had refused to listen to Dean, claiming that he was the only one who was strong enough to kill Lillith. They ended up going toe to toe and Dean had basically told Sam to never show his face around him again. You scowled at him for that last bit. Sam was a wreck right now, which meant he needed his brother more than anything. Your dad seemed to think similarly and kept trying to get Dean to call his brother. 

“Yeah, I heard you. I'm not calling him,” Dean argued.

“Don't make me get my gun, boy,” Dad growled. 

“We are damn near kickoff for Armageddon, don't you think we got bigger fish at the moment?” Dean spat.

“Don’t you think that you and Sam need to get your shit straightened out, now we’re about to be at the end of times?” you argued back. “He needs you now more than ever, Dean.”

“No he doesn’t need me,” Dean shook his head. “He made that very clear.”

“He's your brother. And he's drowning,” Dad said. 

“Bobby, I tried to help him, I did. Look what happened,” Dean replied, gesturing to his face.

“So try again, dipshit,” you shot. “We just keep trying until we get through that thick skull of his.”

“No, damnit!” Dean shouted. “No. I gotta face the facts. Sam never wanted part of this family. He hated this life growing up. Ran away to Stanford the first chance he got. Now it's like déjà vu all over again. Well, I am sick and tired of chasing him. Screw him, he can do what he wants.”

“You don't mean that,” your dad breathed. 

“Yes I do, Bobby. Sam's gone. He's gone. I'm not even sure if he's still my brother anymore. If he ever was,” Dean said finally. 

“Dean Michael Winchester!” you roared, causing him to flinch. “How fucking dare you!”

Behind you, your father overturned the table in his anger, causing papers and books to fly. 

“You stupid, stupid son of a bitch! Well, boo hoo, I am so sorry your feelings are hurt, princess! Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?! Bake you an apple pie, maybe? They're supposed to make you miserable! That's why they're family!” your father screamed. 

“I told him, "you walk out that door, don't come back" and he walked out anyway! That was his choice!” Dean yelled back. 

“What, like you haven’t ever made a dumbass choice?!” you shouted. 

“You sound like a whiny brat. No, you sound like your dad. Well, let me tell you something. Your dad was a coward!” Dad said. 

“My dad was a lot of things, Bobby, but a coward?” Dean replied.

“He'd rather push Sam away than reach out to him. Well, that don't strike me as brave. You are a better man than your daddy ever was. So you do all of us a favor. Don't be him,” your father said softly. 

Suddenly, the world around you vanished. You blinked and you were no longer standing in your house, but a beautiful polished ivory room. You blinked again, wondering if you had fallen into a dream somehow. Without a sound, Dean appeared beside you, blinking rapidly just as you were. In the center of the room was a table spread out with piles of burgers, buckets of ice cold beer, and a pile of fancy looking chocolates in a gold ornamental bowl. 

  
“What the hell?” Dean breathed. His face was completely healed. 

“Hello Dean. Hello (y/n),” Castiel said, appearing before you. “It’s almost time.”

“Time for what?” you asked with trepidation.

“The finale of course!” said a shorter balding man appearing beside Cas. 

“Hello Dean. You’re looking fit,” he said happily before turning to you. “Ah, Ms. Singer. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure yet. I’m Zachariah. Castiel has told me so much about you.”

“I bet he has,” you said, narrowing your eyes at the angel. Zachariah smirked. 

“Well, how 'bout this? ‘The suite life of Zach and Cas’,” Dean joked, earning an hefty eye roll from you. The angels however, did not comprehend the reference. “It's a... never mind. So, what is this? Where the hell am I?”

“Call it a Green Room. We're closing in on the grand finale, here. We want to keep you safe before showtime,” Zach said. “You are the star after all. Try a burger. They're your favorite. From that seaside shack in Delaware. You were 11, I think.”

“So what am I doing here?” you asked, your eyes on Cas. “I don’t have a role in your show, so why bring me?”

“I brought you here as a courtesy to Castiel. To make sure you don’t get caught in the crossfire when it starts,” Zachariah sneered. “I was even generous enough to include your favorites.” He gestured at the chocolates.

“Gee thanks,” you huffed, crossing your arms in annoyance. “But I think I’ll pass on your ‘generosity’.”

“Your loss,” Zach shrugged. “What about you Dean? Anything I can get you? How about Ginger from season 2 of "Gilligan's Island"? You do have a thing for her, don't you?”

“Tempting,” Dean said thinking it over. “Weird.”

“We'll throw in Mary Ann for free,” Zach smiled creepily.

“No, no,” Dean said, shaking his head. “Let's... bail on the holodeck, okay? I want to know what the game plan is.”

“Let us worry about that. We want you... focused, relaxed,” Zach told him. 

“I really hate how vague you guys can be,” you shot. 

“Well you are welcome to leave anytime sweetheart,” Zach spat. 

“She stays,” Cas said resolutely.

“Well then she needs to learn to control her mouth,” the shorter angel said. 

“Ok, chuckles. I’m about to walk out that door if you don’t start talking,” Dean interrupted. “What’s happening?”

Zachariah sighed with annoyance. “All the seals have fallen. Except one.”

“That's an impressive score. That's... that's right up there with the Washington Generals,” Dean scoffed. 

“You think sarcasm's appropriate, do you? Considering... you started all this? But the final seal... it'll be different,” Zach said. “Lilith has to break it. She's the only one who can. Tomorrow night -- midnight.”

“Where?” you and Dean asked together. 

“We're working on it,” Zach told you.

“Well, work harder,” Dean replied. 

“We'll do our job. You just make sure you do yours,” Zach said.

“Yeah, and what is that, exactly? If I'm supposed to be the one that stops her, how? With the  [ knife ](http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/Ruby%27s_Knife) ?”

“All in good time,” Zach said cryptically.

“There we go again with the damn angel vagueness!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. “Seriously not good for establishing trust.” 

“We don’t need you to trust us,” Zach said calmly. “We only need you to obey.”

He stepped closer to Dean, getting inches away from his face threateningly. 

“Like you swore you would.”

You looked up at Castiel and he looked away from you quickly. You felt unmistakeable guilt radiating through the bond. It was still a little difficult for you to pick up on it, but it was there. Castiel was feeling ashamed and guilty for what was about to occur. 

* * *

The two angels had vanished, leaving you and Dean alone together. Dean took a cold beer from the table and sat down on the floor, drinking deeply. 

“I don’t like this Dean,” you said pacing around the room. “Something about all this seems off.”

“It's the friggin apocalypse, of course it feels off,” Dean shrugged.

“No I mean with the angels,” you urged. “There’s something that they aren’t telling us. Something bad.”

“Yeah well what do you suggest we do?” he sighed. 

“Get the hell out of here?” you said. “Before you end up exactly where they want you to be...which can’t be anywhere good.”

“You heard Zach, I have to be the one to gank Lillith,” Dean argued. “It’s got to be me.”

“Why? Why does it have to be you? And more importantly, HOW? They haven’t told you anything! Doesn’t that strike you as odd?” you urged.

“Of course it has! But I don’t know what else to do!” he shouted. 

He took a deep breath before speaking again. 

“If I can gank Lillith, Sam doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have to drink more demon blood...he doesn’t have to become the next thing we hunt.”

You breathed heavily, and slid down beside him. You rested your head on is shoulder. 

“I don’t want to see Sam become a monster,” you told him. “But I also don’t want to watch you get hurt because the angels think it’s ok to use you like their puppet. I just...I need a way to save both of you.”

“It ain’t your job to save us, sweetheart,” he said, resting his head on yours. 

“Of course it is,” you grumbled. “You’re both idiots...but your MY idiots. And I protect what’s mine.”

* * *

You had fallen asleep at some point against the wall. Your dreams were filled with the screams of your brothers and a darkness that threatened to consume you. You were being pulled under by it when you glanced up. Castiel was watching you. You begged for him to save you, but he just stood there and stared as the darkness clawed its way up your body, pulling you deeper into the abyss. 

You woke with a gasp, looking around. Dean was pacing near you, looking frantically at the walls. 

“What’s going on?” you asked getting to your feet. 

“Freakin Cas!” Dean growled. 

“He was here?” 

“Yeah, I told him I wanted to see Sam and he refused to let me go! He vanished all the doors, so now we’re trapped in here!” he exclaimed, grabbing an ornamental vase and smashing it on the wall across from him. 

“Shit,” you said checking your watch. “We’re coming down to the final hours here.”

You looked around the room. Spotting a heavy greek-style statue, you lifted it off it’s shelf. Grasping it tightly you swung your arms back and smashed it into the wall. 

“What are you doin?” Dean asked, jumping back as you swung the statue again. 

“Getting….us...out...of here!” you said, smashing a hole into the wall. “Why don’t you help?”

Dean shrugged, but picked up a heavy pedestal and began swinging away. You were able to make to to the foundations of the building and you both paused admiring your work. Then, suddenly...the wall repaired itself before your very eyes. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled. 

“Would you two quit hurling feces like a howler monkey, would you? It's unbecoming,” Zachariah scolded you, appearing suddenly behind you. 

“Let us out of here,” Dean demanded at once, stalking towards him. 

“Like I told you: too dangerous out there. Demons on the prowl,” Zach shrugged. 

“That’s bullshit,” you growled. “Demons are always on the prowl and you’ve never given a damn before. What aren’t you telling us?”

“Honestly, what does Cas see in you?” Zach shot. 

“You know, I am so sick of your crap riddles and your backhanded comments and your smug, fat face. What the hell is going on, huh? Why can't I see Sam? And how am I gonna ice Lilith?” Dean exclaimed. 

Zach took a deep breath. 

“You're not. ...Going to ice Lilith,” he told Dean matter of factly.

“What?” Dean asked dumfounded. 

“Lilith's going to break the final seal. Fait accompli at this point. Train's left the station,” the angel shrugged taking a seat on a loveseat. 

“You son of a bitch,” you breathed, eyes wide with realization. “You never wanted to stop the apocalypse did you?”

“Bingo,” Zach said pointing at you. 

“But...What was all that crap about saving seals?” Dean asked with disbelief. 

“Our grunts on the ground -- we couldn't just tell them the whole truth. We'd have a full-scale rebellion on our hands. I mean, think about it. Would we really let 65 seals get broken unless senior management wanted it that way?” Zach replied with a grin.

“Senior management...meaning you?” you fumed. “I knew you were lying to Cas. You’ve been calling the shots this whole time haven’t you? Not God.”

“Now, now. Even I have superiors I report to,” he said dismissively. “But no….not the Papa Almighty.”

“But...why?” Dean asked brokenly. 

“The apocalypse? Poor name, bad marketing -- puts people off. When all it is is Ali/Foreman. On a... slightly larger scale. And we like our chances. When our side wins -- and we will -- it's paradise on earth. Now, what's not to like about that?” he finished reasonably.

“What happens to all the people during your little pissing contest?” Dean asked.

“Well... you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs,” Zach replied, getting to his feet. “In this case... truckloads of eggs, but you get the picture. Look... it happens. This isn't the first planetary enema we've delivered.”

“You unbelievable douchebag,” you growled, clutching the statue tighter. 

“Hmm...I’d think twice before trying to smash my skull in. Cas or no Cas, I won’t hesitate to end you,” he warned.

“What about Sam? He won't go quietly. He'll stop Lilith,” Dean told him.

“Sam... has a part to play. A very important part. He may need a little nudging in the right direction, but I'll make sure he plays it,” the angel said cryptically.

“What does that mean? What are you gonna do to him?” Dean asked with fear in his voice. 

“Sam, Sam, Sam. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. Forget about him, would you? You have larger concerns. Why do you think I'm confiding in you? You're still vital, Dean. We weren't lying about your destiny. Just... omitted a few pertinent details. But nothing's changed. You are chosen. You will stop it. Just... not Lilith, or the apocalypse. That's all,” he answered. 

“Which means?” Dean asked. 

Zach gestured to a gilded painting hanging on the wall depicting an armored angel slaughtering the devil.

“Lucifer,” he said quietly. “You're going to stop Lucifer. You're our own little Russell Crowe, complete with surly attitude. And when it's over... and when you've won... your rewards will be... unimaginable. Peace, happiness…”

He looked at you.

“Even for you, sweet cheeks. You and your angel boyfriend can walk off into the sunset together...providing you both survive the war to come. Trust me -- one day, we'll all look back on this and laugh.”

He began to stride away, but Dean stopped him.

“Tell me something. Where's God in all this?” Dean asked.

“God? God has left the building,” Zach replied stoically before fluttering away. 

Dean pulled out his phone and immediately started trying to call Sam. Unfortunately, when he tried to dial out the only noise he heard was static. 

“Cas!” you shouted at the ceiling, throwing the statue across the room. “Get your feathered ass down here now!”

To your surprise, he suddenly appeared in the room. 

“How long have you known about all of this?” you started on him angrily. “Since they took you away, right? This is what you were going to tell us.”

He looked away guiltily. 

“What are they gonna do to Sam?” Dean demanded. 

“Nothing. He's gonna do it to himself,” Cas answered. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dean pressed. 

  
Cas looked away again, guilt written across his face. 

“You son of a bitch,” Dean growled, and he slammed his fist into the angel’s face. 

  
Cas seemed unfazed, but you heard a couple of the bones in Dean’s hand crack suspiciously. Dean turned away quickly to hide the pain on his face. You turned to the angel.

“You’re really okay with all of this?” you asked him with disbelief. “You’re just going to stand back and watch as half the planet gets roasted?”

“Try to understand -- this is long foretold. This is...destiny,” he explained. 

“Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn?” Dean shouted. 

  
“What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you, Dean. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam,” Cas told him.

“Do you even hear yourself?” you yelled, stepping closer to the angel. “I can feel your guilt, Castiel! I feel your shame! You don’t believe in what they’ve told you, not really. It feels wrong to you, because it is wrong, and you know it!”

You stepped even closer, mere inches away from him. You placed a hand on his chest.

“Please Cas,” you pleaded in barely a whisper. “Please….help us. We need you.”

“What would you have me do?” he asked, bringing his up hand to cover yours. 

“Get me to Sam. We can stop this before it's too late,” Dean begged.

“I do that, we will all be hunted. We'll all be killed,” he warned, looking up at Dean.

“If there is anything worth dying for... this is it,” Dean said with conviction.

“Please, Cas,” you urged. “We have to try.”

He looked at you with furrowed brows, considering it. Slowly he shook his head.

  
“I can’t risk losing you,” he said softly. 

You stepped away from him. 

“You already are,” you said shaking your head with disappointment.

Ignoring his gaze, you turned your back on him, but you heard the unmistakable sound of wings, signalling his departure. 

“GOD DAMNIT!” Dean roared.

“I’m sorry Dean,” you said hopelessly, ignoring the tears that threatened to spill. “I really thought he’d help us.”

“What the hell is going on between you two?” Dean demanded rounding on you. “And don’t give me that ‘Nothing’ bullshit. Between Zach’s little comments and the intense looks Cas was just giving you, there is clearly something more going on.”

You ran a hand through your hair in frustration. It was no good. The world was about to end anyways…

“It turns out...this uh brand here...well it means Cas is my soulmate,” you shrugged. 

“Come again?” Dean asked, cocking his head. “Your..what?”   
  


“My soulmate!” you huffed. “As in our souls are bound, even though he doesn’t have a soul, so technically I guess I’m bound to his grace? I dunno Dean, a lot of the details are still vague.”

“Oh this just keeps getting better and better,” Dean growled. “Next time I see him I’m gonna punch more than his face!”

“Yeah well that didn’t work out so well the first time did it? Anyways...it doesn’t really matter anymore. We’re on different sides now,” you said softly.

“You sure about that?” Dean asked, gentler this time. 

“Yeah, Dean. You know I’m always on your team,” you said, looking him in the eye. 

“Yeah...I know,” Dean sighed.

* * *

You watched as Dean paced around the room as the minutes ticked by. Midnight wasn’t far away now. You wondered if Sam had already found Lilith. A part of you hoped he had so he could stop Lilith from raising the devil...but the other part of you really hoped he hadn't. You really didn't know what condition you would find Sam in if you ever got out of the room. A part of you was scared to find out. 

Suddenly, Castiel appeared and shoved Dean up against the wall. He pressed a hand over his mouth to silence him and withdrew the demon knife. You moved forwards to pull him off but he stopped you with a look. He put his finger to his lips, urging you both to keep quiet. Catching on, you watched as he slid the knife across his own arm drawing blood. He moved quickly, spreading the blood on the wall in a familiar pattern. 

“Castiel! Would you mind explaining just what the hell you're doing?” Zachariah shouted, appearing in the room. 

  
Cas finished the sigil and slammed his bloodied hand down in the center. Zachariah screamed and with a burst of bright light, he was banished. 

“He won't be gone long. We have to find Sam now,” Cas said quickly.

“Do you know where he is?” Dean asked, taking the knife from Cas. 

“I don't know. But I know who does. We have to stop him, Dean, from killing Lilith,” he urged.

“But Lilith's gonna break the final seal,” Dean replied. 

“No, Dean. Lilith is the final seal. She dies, the end begins.”

With that he grabbed your hand and touched Dean’s forehead and you suddenly appeared in Chuck’s living room. Chuck was on the phone, facing away from you so he didn’t see you arrive. 

“Okay. Then, uh, I'll take 20 girls for the whole night….Lady, sometimes you got to live like there's no tomorrow,” he said.

He turned around and noticed the three of you. His eyes widened comically. 

“Wait. T-t-this isn't supposed to happen…,” he sputtered. “No, lady, this is definitely supposed to happen, but I just got to call you back…”

He hung the phone up and you offered him a small smile.

  
“Hey Chuck,” you said, still holding onto Cas’s hand.

“We need to know where Sam is,” Dean said without preamble. “Have you seen it?”

“Yeah...I uh, just finished writing it actually,” he said, pointing at the stack of papers on his desk. “Uh...here.”

He ruffled through the papers, pulling out a sheet and handing it to Dean. Dean scanned over it quickly.

“St. Mary's? What is that, a convent?” he asked the prophet.

“Yeah, but you guys aren't supposed to be there. You're not in this story,” he said. 

“Yeah, well...We're making it up as we go,” Cas said, gripping your hand tighter.

Suddenly, Chuck’s computer screen began to flicker and his house began to shake. A blinding light began to fill up the room and the light fixtures began to explode from their sockets. 

“Aw, man! Not again! No!” Chuck shouted.    
  


“It's the Archangel!” Cas shouted. “I'll hold him off! I'll hold them all off! Just stop Sam!”

He raised his hand to Dean’s head and transported him away. He moved to do the same to you but you stopped him

  
“Wait!” you yelled, and without pause you crashed your lips to his.

A searing heat ran through you as your lips collided against his, but it wasn’t painful. On the contrary, it was like time and space stood still and for those few measly seconds...you felt a pleasure you didn’t know existed. It was like your entire being was at peace, completely whole with the feeling of his lips on yours. All too quickly, he pulled away, staring at you like you had just shown him the answer to all of life’s greatest mysteries. 

“Thank you,” you breathed as the light grew brighter around you. 

He looked like he wanted to say something...a thousand things really...but the house began to shake even harder and you knew the archangel was only a second away. 

  
“Be safe,” he breathed, touching your head and transporting you away.

You opened your eyes expecting to see Dean, but you weren’t at the convent. You were standing in a familiar salvage yard. Cas had sent you home. 


	11. Obliterate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PLOT THICKENSSSSS
> 
> Sorry this one was so long. It really got away from me. 
> 
> Thank you all for being so kind and leaving me amazing comments! It really brightens my day!
> 
> ENJOY!

You pressed the phone to your ear for the thousandth time as your eyes were glued to the TV which had the news on covering a freak hurricane that was tearing through Galveston.

“C’mon!” you growled as the line went to voicemail yet again. 

“They still ain’t pickin up?” Dad asked.

“No…,” you replied, unable to contain the worry in your voice. “And Cas isn’t answering me either.”

“Well keep tryin,” he said in a quiet voice. You could tell he was just as worried as you were. 

The news switched from covering the hurricane to a new deadly strain of swine flu that was sweeping the country. From there it switched to the string of recent earthquakes out in California. 

“This can’t be a good sign,” your dad huffed. 

You silently agreed. All of these disasters at once...it didn’t exactly signal that Dean was able to stop Sam in time. Had Lucifer really risen? And what happened to Cas? Had the archangel smote him? You felt absolutely nothing from him through the bond. 

Your quiet fretting was interrupted by the sound of your phone going off.

“Oh thank god,” you gasped, seeing Dean’s name on the caller ID. “Dean!? Is that you? Are you alright? Where’s Sam?! Is he ok?”

“Woah, slow down, damn. Yes, Sam and I are both alright. He’s here with me. What about you? Where did you end up?” he asked.

“Back at home in Souix Falls,” you said, filled with relief. “Dean...what happened?”

“I uh..I couldn’t stop it,” Dean told you. “Lucifer….he’s out.”

You froze. An icy fear began to seep through your veins. Satan was walking the earth again. You sat down, trying to process the fact that the Devil had risen. Dean began to explain what happened with Ruby and Sam and how they somehow mysteriously ended up on an airplane over Boston. 

“We have no idea how we got there. I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Cas?” he asked.

  
“No...not since he sent me away. He’s not answering my prayers,” you sighed. 

“Alright...we’re on our way to see Chuck to try and get some answers,” Dean told you.

“I’ll meet you there,” you told him. “I’ll bring the Impala.”

“You have my baby? How the hell did it end up in South Dakota?” Dean asked.

“We can add that onto the growing list of questions without answers,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’ll get there before me, so call me the minute you know anything. Also, I’m bringing Dad. This seems like an all hands on deck kind of situation.”

“Yeah I’ll say,” Dean chuckled. “Alright. Stay safe. We’ll see you soon.”

* * *

You drove the Impala and your Dad told you he would follow in his own car after he went through his library for everything he had on the apocalypse. You gave him the address and took off before he even finished packing. You drove like a bat out of hell, no pun intended, and you were mildly surprised you hadn’t been pulled over. About an hour away from Chuck’s place, Dean called.

“Dean,” you answered. “Please tell me you have good news.”

“Well...Chuck’s alive,” Dean offered. “He says hi.”

“Hi Chuck,” you said in a flat tone. “What about Cas?”

“Yeah...about that,” Dean said awkwardly, and your stomach dropped. “He’s gone, sweetheart. The archangel exploded him. I’m so sorry.”

You slammed on brakes. Luckily there wasn’t anyone behind you. You pulled the Impala over to the side of the road. You felt numb all over. Surely you had heard him wrong. 

“You still there?” Dean asked after several minutes of silence. 

“Yeah,” you managed weakly. “Ok...where do you want me to meet you?”

“We’re going to a motel not too far away,” he said, giving you the address. “You can meet us there and then we can figure out our next step.”

“Okay,” you said shortly.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised. “And...really...I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you said again and you hung up. 

You took a deep shaky breath. He couldn’t be gone. The two of you had just barely begun. He had just rebelled against heaven for you. It was your fault. 

“Cas...please...please just let me know if you’re still out there,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. 

Cruel silence answered. You decided to try again, but this time you prayed to someone else. 

“Please...you must have connected us together for a purpose…” you begged to any God who might have been listening. “We had barely even started figuring out what that purpose was. Please bring him back. We need him...especially if we are about to try and stop the freaking devil! We need him. I need him.”

As expected, no one answered. You wiped the hot tears away from your face in anger. 

“Screw you,” you growled. Either God wasn’t listening, or he just didn’t give a damn. Both options pissed you off royally. You put the car in drive and peeled off back down the highway hoping that somehow you could outrun the empty void of pain that threatened to consume you. 

* * *

You knocked on the door and was greeted by Dean who immediately drew you in for a hug. You returned it half heartedly. Sam stood across the room looking awkward.

“Sam,” you greeted with narrowed eyes. 

“Hey,” he said weakly. 

You dropped your bag and stomped up to the giant. 

“You...complete...and...total….idiot!” you hissed, striking him with your fist with each word.

“Ouch! Hey!” Sam protested.

“If you ever do anything like that again I swear to the lord above Sam Winchester, I will lock you in the panic room until Kingdom Come!” you growled at him.

  
Before he could answer, you engulfed his massive frame in a tight hug. He froze for a second, but slowly he returned the hug, resting his head on the top of yours. 

“I’m really...truly sorry,” he said quietly. “I...I love you, sis.”

“Love you too, moron,” you replied in a whisper. 

“As touching as this is...can we break up the chick flick moment before I throw up?” Dean commented with a grin. 

“Yeah ok,” you said, stepping away from the taller man. 

“So...uh where’s Bobby?” Sam asked, breaking up the tension.

“He’s a couple hours behind me,” you told them. “He had to get some things together.”

A knock at the door startled all three of you. 

  
“At least I thought he was,” you said, confused. 

Dean pulled his gun and Sam strode forwards and opened the door. A young woman stood there, gasping for breath.

“You okay lady?” Sam asked.

“Sam...is it really you?” she panted.

She stepped closer to him and put a hand on his chest.

“And you're so firm,” she breathed with excitement.

“Uh, do I know you?” he asked uncomfortably.

“No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester. And you're—” she paused looking over Sam’s shoulder to Dean. 

“—not what I pictured. I'm Becky.” she continued, pushing past Sam to enter the room. She caught sight of you and her eyes went wide.

“Oh...Ohmygosh,” she stuttered. “You’re (Y/N) Singer aren’t you?!”

“Uh...yeah?” you replied. 

“I always picture myself as you when I read the books! I always shipped you and Sam together. I’ve even written a few….” she stopped giggling embarrassedly. “Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were.”

“Chuck?” Dean asked as Sam shut the door. 

“He's got a message, but he's being watched. Angels. Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old.”

“Right. Just, um...what's the message?” Sam asked.

“He had a vision. "The Michael sword is on earth. The angels lost it,” she said fervently.

“The Michael sword?” Dean asked.

“Did Chuck say where it is?” you asked the girl.

“In a castle, on a hill made of forty-two dogs,” she nodded.

“Are...you sure you got that right?” Sam asked her.

“It doesn't make sense, but that's what he said,” she said, stepping closer to him, placing her hand on his chest again. “I memorized every word. For you.”

“Um, Becky, c—uh, can you...quit touching me?” Sam asked nervously.

“No,” she said quickly. 

Sam looked quickly at his brother, begging for help. Dean smiled widely at his brother’s obvious discomfort. You almost grinned, but couldn’t quite manage it. 

* * *

A couple of hours later, you called your Dad to see what was taking so long. He said he had gotten tied up with a few books he couldn’t find but he wasn’t far away. You explained to him about Becky and the message she had. He told you he’d be there in fifteen and you could figure it all out together. 

“Dad’s gonna be here in fifteen,” you told the boys. You looked at Sam. “Now...I didn’t tell him exactly how the last seal was broken. I figure...it’s not my place. Maybe you should be the one to tell him.”

He swallowed and nodded, looking guilty. 

“And Dean,” you said looking over at the older brother. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to him about Cas and me. He doesn’t know...and now there’s no reason to tell him.”

“Okay...if that’s what you want,” he agreed. 

“What happened between you and Cas?” Sam asked curiously.

“Noneya,” you said shortly leaving no room for more discussion. 

Sam looked over at Dean, but Dean shook his head. You were silently grateful. A few minutes later, your Dad arrived carrying several heavy books. He greeted Dean with a hug. 

“Good to see you boys all in one piece,” he said, hugging Sam as well. 

He turned to you where you were seated at the table and ruffled your hair. 

“You weren't followed, were you?” Dean asked him.

“You mean by angels, demons, or Sam's new superfan?” Dad said with a chuckle. 

Sam laughed.

“You told him about that?” he asked you. 

“Of course,” you replied, mockingly. “It was important information.”

“So...sword of Michael, huh?” Dad said, setting his heavy books down on the table in front of you.

“You think we're talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?” Dean asked him.

“You better friggin' hope so,” Dad said matter of factly.

He opened the book up and started rifling through the pages, stopping when he reached a picture of a classically painted angel wielding a sword.

“That's Michael. Toughest son of a bitch they got,” he told you all. 

Sam flipped the page and revealed another portrait of Micheal, this one looking rather feminine. 

“You kidding me? Tough? That guy looks like Cate Blanchett,” Dean joked. 

“Well, I wouldn't want to meet him in a dark alley, believe me. He commands the heavenly host. During the last big dust-up upstairs, he's the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did it with that sword. So if we can find it…”

“We can kick the devil's ass all over again. All right. So, where do we start?” Sam asked. 

“Well...we can all start reading through these,” Dad said, gesturing at the books. “See if we can figure out Chuck’s message.”

Sam stood up and walked a few steps away, sighing heavily. He paused in his steps and looked back over to you and your Dad.

“Kid? You all right?” Dad asked him.

“No, actually. Bobby, this is all my fault. I'm sorry,” he began. 

“Sam...you don’t have to do this right now,” Dean warned him. 

“Maybe he should,” you argued. “He needs to get it off his chest.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Dad asked.

“Lilith did not break the final seal. Lilith was the final seal,” Sam told him. “I killed her, and I set Lucifer free.”

“You what?!” your Dad gasped.

“It was an accident,” you tried to help.

“You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on,” Sam admitted. 

Dad got to his feet, walking slowly towards Sam. 

“You're damn right you didn't listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant,” your Dad growled angrily. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam pleaded. 

“Oh, yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon?!” Dad said, sarcastically. “This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy. If, by some miracle, we pull this off...I want you to lose my number. You understand me?” 

“Dad!” you shouted in shock. He loved the Winchesters like his own kids, like they were your siblings. You never expected him to have such an antagonistic response, even if Sam fucked up royally.

Sam nodded, looking like he was close to tears.

“There's an old church nearby. Maybe I'll go read some of the lore books there,” he said weakly.

“Yeah. You do that,” Dad growled.

You watched as Sam gathered his jacket and left without saying another word. 

“What the hell Dad!?” you spat. “Yeah, he fucked up but we won’t cut him out! He’s family!”

“Not anymore,” he said quietly.

“Always,” you shook your head angrily, and you stormed out after Sam. 

You caught up to Sam on the street outside the motel. 

“Sam!” you said pulling him to a stop. 

He looked down at you, tears falling down his face. 

“Sam...just give him some time,” you told him. “I don’t know why he said that. It’s not like him.”

“Yeah well maybe he’s right,” Sam said. “I mean I started the end of the world! You all tried to warn me...tried to stop me but I wouldn’t listen. I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

“Let me ask you something,” you sighed. “If the roles were reversed...if I had been manipulated into breaking the final seal and letting Lucifer out of his cage….would you forgive me?”

“Yea...well that’s different,” he muttered. “You’re…”

“Family,” you finished. “You are my family Sam. And I will always love you even when you’re at your worst.”

He wiped his tears away, and gave you a shaky smile. A crash coming from the motel room broke you out of the moment.

“Did you hear that?” you asked.

“C’mon!” Sam replied, rushing towards the motel room. 

You both burst through the door where a horrible sight met your eyes. Dean was being pinned to the wall by a male demon, while another male demon and a female demon watched. Your father was crumpled on the floor, bleeding heavily from the demon knife sticking out of his side. 

“NO!” Sam screamed.

You barely registered it as the female demon rushed him and pinned him against the wall near Dean. All you could see was your father laying there impaled and bleeding out. A scream tore through you, louder than any sound you had ever made before as the horror burned you from the inside out. The second male demon rushed you just as a hot white light shot from your mouth, from your eyes, from your very skin. The demon closest to you disintegrated, followed by the second male demon. The female demon looked at you with wide eyes before opening her mouth and ejecting herself from her host, fleeing out the now shattered window. 

The scream died in your throat and you crumpled to the floor, gasping for air.

“Woah, woah, woah easy! Take a few breaths with me,” Dean instructed, placing a gentle hand on your back. With his guidance you managed to get your breathing under control.

“Quick!” you croaked, your voice hoarse. “We need to get him to a hospital.”

“Yeah of course,” Dean nodded. “Help me with him, Sam.”

Together, they managed to lift your father and load him into the Impala. Your dad was still breathing and going in and out of consciousness as Dean sped down the road. Dean explained how Dad had been possessed the whole time. He must have gotten possessed after you had left the house back in South Dakota.

“How….how did you kill those demons?” Sam asked you, as the car raced down the highway. 

“I don’t know Sam,” you said, exhaustion beginning to blur your vision. “I...I don’t know.”

All conversation fell away and you managed to get him into the ER where the doctors immediately took him from you. You told Sam and Dean to leave, as the nurses were already suspicious. You would cover for them and make something up. Dean briefly explained that he had figured out the location of the Michael sword, and that they would be going after it and they would call you the minute they found it. They looked like they didn’t want to leave you there, but you urged them to take off.

You ended up telling the doctors a story about how a mugger had stabbed your father with a huge hunting knife as he had fought to defend you. Your very real tears made the story more believable. They rushed him into surgery immediately and you were left to wait alone in the waiting room for hours, covered in your father’s blood. Every muscle inside of you ached as if you had been run over by a semi. You were vaguely curious as to what the white light was that had shot out of you or how you had obliterated those demons, but you were just too tired to care. Every ounce of energy you had left in you went to worrying about your Dad. 

A few hours later, the doctors came out and told you that it looked like he was going to pull through, that your dad was a fighter. They said he was resting comfortably right now, but you could see him in the morning. A fresh wave of tears erupted as you gasped in relief and you had to catch yourself as you nearly fainted. The doctors looked at you in concern, but you waved them off, saying all you needed was a couple hours of sleep. They told you you could come back in the morning during visiting hours, after you had a chance to clean up and get some rest. 

You stumbled out of the hospital, dialing Dean in the process when another wave of exhaustion ran through you and your legs could no longer support you. You fell, bracing yourself to hit the concrete sidewalk….when instead you fell into a pair of arms. You blinked up trying to clear your foggy vision as you stared into a pair of crystal blue eyes. 

“Castiel?” you breathed.

“You’re hurt,” he said, noticing the blood all over you and your weakened demeanor. 

“You’re really here?” you asked shakily. “How?”

“That’s a very good question, for another time,” he told you cryptically. “We need to get you somewhere safe.”

He held you tighter in his arms and you felt a rush of wind and suddenly you were no longer in front of the hospital. He had taken you to a comfortable looking hotel room.

“Can you stand?” he asked and you nodded.

He set you to your feet where you stood on wobbly legs. Your legs began to give out again and he caught you quickly, moving you to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“This blood isn’t yours,” he observed, searching you for injuries. 

  
“N..no. It’s Dad’s,” you said shakily, staring at the angel who kneeled before you. “He was hurt...but the doctors say he’s gonna pull through. Cas...Chuck said you exploded.”

“I did,” Cas nodded. “The archangel obliterated me. But someone brought me back.”

“Who?” you asked weakly.

“I believe it was God,” he told you with a small smile. “He brought me back to you.”

You blinked tears from your eyes again and moved forwards, crushing your lips to his. Immediately, you felt that same heat spread through you...and this time it felt familiar. You pulled back quickly in shock.

“I’m sorry, was I doing it wrong?” Cas asked immediately. 

“No no,” you assured him quickly. “It’s just...that feeling I get when I kiss you. It feels the same as before.”

You explained about the demons and how your father was hurt and the white light that shot from you and decimated the two demons. His eyes widened as you spoke. 

“You must have been using my Grace,” he breathed in awe. 

“What?” you asked in shock.

“The warm white light you're describing...it must be my Grace. Somehow...you can access it. Even when I was dead...my grace lived on within you,” he explained. “Normally, something that powerful would reduce a human to atoms...but our soul bond must have given you the ability to withstand it.”

“I used your Grace to kill those demons...I didn’t mean to. It just sort of exploded out of me,” you replied with awe.

“It must have been protecting you,” he said as his hand traced soft patterns against your cheek. “Even when I was destroyed, my Grace protected you. In a sense, I was never really gone.

“Will it hurt you in any way? Me using your Grace,” you asked in concern.

“Well...I’m sort of cut off from Heaven now, so it stands to reason that if you use it, it would weaken me as well,” he guessed.

“Cut off from Heaven?” you asked.

“Don’t worry about that now,” he dismissed you. “I can feel how exhausted you are. You need to rest.”

You felt his Grace rush through you, pleasant and warm and instantly all the dried blood vanished from your clothes. 

“Thank you,” you said. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” he answered. “But first, I need to shield you from other angels. I’m sorry, this will be painful.”

Without pause, he reached out and spread his hand across your chest. For a second you thought he was trying to grope you, then you felt an intense burning sensation spread across your ribs. 

“OW!” you cried out. “What was that?”

“I carved enochian sigils into your ribs,” he explained. “To hide you from the rest of heaven. I’m afraid they might try to use you to get to Dean.”

“What do they want with Dean?” you asked.

“I’ll explain everything tomorrow,” he promised. “For now, sleep.”

You were too tired to argue. You shrugged off your jacket and shoes, no longer able to fight off your weariness. You climbed under the blanket and Cas laid down beside you. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling closer to him. You rested your head on his chest.

“I can feel you,” you whispered, shutting your eyes. “I can feel your Grace through the bond. It’s more noticeable now.”

“You’re more in tune with it now,” he said softly. “When you used my Grace, you opened up the channel between us, so to speak.”

“It’s a comforting feeling,” you whispered again. “When you were gone….it was so numb. So empty. It was an awful feeling. I’m so glad you’re back.”

“So am I,” he told you, holding you tighter to him. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake.”

You yawned and obeyed, losing your hold on consciousness. You slept soundly as Castiel held you securely in his arms throughout the night.


	12. Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! I'm not dead! I've just been super busy and then I got sick. But never you fret! I am not abandoning this story! I have the rest of the season mapped out. A HUGE Thank You to everyone who has read/commented/liked this story! You really motivate me to get off my butt and continue writing. <3

You awoke the next morning feeling well rested in the warm embrace of Castiel. He smiled softly at you as you blinked away your grogginess. 

“Good morning,” he said, a small smile upon his lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than I have in a long time,” you answered with a yawn. “Sorry, it must have been boring for you sitting like this all night. You could have watched the tv or something.”

“I was perfectly content where I was,” he replied. “Besides, I had entertainment. You spoke in your sleep.”

“Oh,” you muttered, blushing furiously. “That’s embarrassing. What did I say?”

“You muttered my name several times,” he told you, gazing down at you with a gentle look. “Do you dream of me often?”

“Yes,” you said simply. You didn’t feel a need to lie to him.

“It pleases me to know I occupy your thoughts, both waking and subconsciously,” he said, almost smugly. “I assure you, since the moment I met you there hasn’t been a minute you’ve left my mind.”

“Jeeze Cas, I’ve been awake for 5 minutes and you already have me blushing like a teenager,” you teased. “I didn’t take you for a romantic.”

“I speak only the truth,” he said.

The sound of your phone ringing cut through the room. 

“Crap, I never called Dean last night,” you muttered, scrambling to grab your phone from the nightstand. 

“Hey,” you answered, seeing Dean’s name on the caller ID.

“Where the hell have you been?” Dean greeted you roughly.

“Sorry, I sort of blacked out last night,” you explained. “Luckily Cas found me.”

“Blacked out?” he asked quickly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later,” you said. “Shit, what time is it?”

“Almost 8,” he answered. “How’s Bobby?”

“He’s stable,” you sighed. “He was still asleep when I left last night. Doctors said I can come back and see him during visiting hours.”

“That’s great,” he said, sounding relieved.

“What happened with the Michael sword? Did you find it?” you asked quickly.

“Ah...sort of. I’ll explain everything later when I see you at the hospital,” he said. 

“Ok, see you then,” you replied and you hung up.

  
You stood, stretched, and adjusted your disheveled clothes. You turned back to Cas who had also stood. 

“Cas... do you think you could heal my dad? He was hurt really bad yesterday and the recovery period is going to be...well it would mean alot to me if you could help him,” you asked timidly.

“I’m very sorry, I would heal him if I could,” Cas said sympathetically. “Unfortunately, it’s beyond my ability right now.”

  
“What do you mean?” you asked, eyes widening. 

“When I rebelled...I was disconnected from the heavenly host. I have to rely on my own Grace now, rather than the power of heaven. There are things I can still do, but healing a major injury like that is beyond me,” he told you, his expression filled with sympathy. 

“Oh,” you said in a small voice. “Right.”

“I’m very sorry...you must think me inadequate,” he sighed, looking down at the floor.

“What? No!” you cried, whirling on him. “The reason you’re cut off from heaven is because you helped me and Dean. You gave up everything you knew for me...you are far from inadequate.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

You leaned forwards on your toes and placed a soft kiss on his lips. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer while his lips moved against yours. That familiar warmth spread pleasantly through you couldn’t withhold the soft moan you emitted. Cas pulled away, looking down towards his legs clearly alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“It seems I have become aroused,” he said matter of factly, staring down at the growing bulge in his trousers. 

Blood instantly rushed to your face and you had to force yourself not to laugh. Castiel, angel of the lord, had his first erection because of you. Now it was your turn to be a bit smug. 

“This has never happened to me before,” he continued, looking at you for guidance. “Is this normal?”

“Uh...y...yeah it can happen when you’re uh...physically attracted to someone,” you stuttered, face hotter than the sun.

“Oh,” he said, adjusting his pants. “I do find you very physically appealing.”

“Um...thank you. I uh...feel the same way about you,” you told him, wishing you could channel some of Dean’s over-confidence.

“It’s just this vessel you are attracted to.”

“No, I don’t think so,” you refuted. “When you were gone and it was just Jimmy...I didn’t feel anything for him. He’s handsome, sure...but I just wasn’t attracted to him at all because it wasn’t you.”

Suddenly a thought struck you and you gasped.

“Oh, god. I didn’t even think about Jimmy! I’ve been kissing you while he’s still in there with you! I’m so sorry Jimmy!”

“You don’t have to worry,” Cas said placatingly. “After Raphael obliterated me, Jimmy’s soul seems to have departed to Heaven. It’s just me in this vessel now.”

“Oh...poor Jimmy,” you said softly. “Well...at least he’s at peace now. I know he didn’t like being stuck in there without control. At least his soul can rest.”

“His soul will find peace in his Heaven,” Cas nodded.    
  
A moment of silence passed between you. Cas glanced down.

“I believe my erection has dissipated.”

“Well...that’s good,” you said, unable to stop the laughter this time. “Listen, we should probably get out of here before the hotel staff comes in and finds us. I’ve got to go to the hospital to check on Dad anyways. Can you give me a lift?”

“Of course,” he said. 

He took your hand and a moment later you were standing in front of St. Martin’s hospital.

“Thanks. Do you want to come in with me?” you asked him. 

“Unfortunately, I have pressing matters I need to attend to. I do wish your father all the best in his recovery,” Cas told you. “I will find you later, if that is alright?”

“Yeah of course,” you agreed. “Dad will probably be in the hospital for a few days at least, so I’ll be sticking around here. Sam and Dean should be here soon as well.”

“I will return as soon as I am able,” he promised, placing a soft kiss upon your forehead. “Be safe.”

You smiled at his show of affection and a moment later he was gone.

* * *

You spent the rest of the day at your father’s bedside. He was awake when you entered his room, grumbling about the annoying IV in his hand. After a slightly tearful reunion from you, you hit him lightly on his shoulder and made him promise he would get the anti-possession symbol tattooed on him as soon as he was able, his fear of needles be damned. He reluctantly agreed. Sam and Dean showed up a little while after that. They were kind enough to bring you your car and your bag along with them. They gave you a run down on the Michael sword and what happened with Zachariah.

“So that’s why Zachariah wanted to keep you safe for Lucifer’s big entrance,” you spat. “So he could save you for Michael’s own personal meat suit. That slimy bastard.”

“Yeah. I gotta say though, it was pretty satisfying watching Zach turn tail and run like a pansy after Cas threatened him,” Dean laughed. “So what about you? You said you blacked out last night?”

“Blacked out?” your Dad asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about,” you said quickly, giving Dean a pointed look. Your dad still didn’t know about the stuff that was going on with you and Cas and you intended to keep it that way. You would tell him eventually, but now was not the time. “Just some exhaustion that finally caught up with me. Luckily, Cas found me and took me to a hotel.”

“Well next time you see him, tell him to come and lay his hands on me. I don’t want to be stuck in this bed longer than necessary,” Dad growled. 

“About that…” you started, but the doctor’s arrival interrupted you.

The doctor gave your father a sympathetic look before launching into his explanation of your father’s injuries. They were able to stop the internal bleeding, and the knife missed most of his vital organs, but unfortunately it did significant damage to his spinal cord. 

“We’ve done all we can, but I need to be upfront with you. You may regain some feeling back in your legs, but it’s highly likely you will never regain full use. I’m so sorry but you’re unlikely to ever walk again,” the doctor told him, trying to sound sympathetic but coming off more apathetic.

“‘Unlikely to walk again’?” your father repeated. “Why, you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait till I get out of this bed!”

He chucked his food tray across the room at the doctor. The doctor fled the room in terror. 

“Dad,” you admonished half heartedly. 

“I'll use my game leg and kick your friggin' ass! Yeah, you better run!” your father yelled after the doctor. “Can you believe that yahoo?”

“Screw him. You'll be fine,” Dean told him smiling. 

“Yeah, Cas will fix you up in no time,” Sam agreed.

“Guys...about that,” you said warily. “Dad...I...I’m so sorry. Cas can’t heal you. I already asked.”

“What the hell do you mean he can’t fix me?” Dad growled.

“After he was killed by the archangel, he lost his connection to Heaven and with that the source of his power. He can still do some things with his Grace...but he just doesn’t have the power to heal major injuries anymore.”

“You mean to tell me that he lost his mojo, just in time for me to get stuck in a goddamn wheelchair?!” he screamed. 

“Hey...calm down,” Dean told him. “Listen...we’ll figure something out, okay? If we can find a way to stop the friggin apocalypse, we can find a way to fix your legs.”

“Have we found a way to stop the apocalypse?” Sam asked.

“Well….not yet,” Dean replied.

“So, let me ask the million-dollar question. What do we do now?” Sam asked the room at large. 

Your father sighed, defeatedly. 

“Well... I guess we save as many as we can for as long as we can. It's bad. Whoever wins, heaven or hell, we're boned.”

“What if we win?” Dean asked optimistically. 

Everyone stared at him in surprise. 

“I'm serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap apocalypse. Hell, they want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one's ours, and I say they get the hell off it. We take 'em all on. We kill the devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to. But we do it our own damn selves,” he said confidently. 

“And how are we supposed to do all this, genius?” your dad asked. 

“We don’t exactly have the power of Heaven on our side,” you muttered. 

“Well fuck em. Look, I got no idea how we’re gonna pull this off. But what I do have is a GED and a give-'em-hell attitude, and I'll figure it out,” he shrugged with a smirk.

“You are nine kinds of crazy, boy,” Dad said, shaking his head, but there was a slight smile on his face.

“Don’t I know it,” Dean laughed.

A nurse timidly peeked through the door.

  
“I’m so sorry...but visiting hours are about to end,” she stammered. “It’s time for his medication.”

“Alright, we’re on our way out,” you said kindly, before turning to your father. “Please try not to harass the nurses okay? They don’t get paid enough. You can harass the doctors all you want.”

“Fine,” he agreed. 

“I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?” you told him, kissing him on the forehead. To your surprise he didn’t shrug away. “Get some rest.”

You turned to leave with the boys, but your dad stopped you all.

“Sam...I was awake. I know what I said back there. I just want you to know that...that  _ was _ the demon talking. I ain't cutting you out, boy. Not ever,” he told the taller man earnestly.

Sam looked relieved and nearly tearful.

“Thanks, Bobby,” he managed in a broken voice. 

“You're welcome. I deserve a damn medal for this, but...you're welcome,” he said quietly. 

  
You gave him a soft smile before exiting the hospital room. 

“So you gonna tell me what the hell’s goin on with you?” Dean started on you immediately as you made your way out of the hospital towards the parking lot. 

“It’s...it’s kind of a lot to process,” you sighed and you launched into Cas’s explanation about how you could tap into his Grace. 

“So you guys really are...soulmates,” he said, spitting out the last word with serious effort. 

“Yeah...we are,” you said awkwardly. “Can you guys not tell my dad? I’ll tell him eventually….preferably when he’s not lying in a hospital bed.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Sam nodded.

“I’m not sure whether or not I should kick Cas’s ass,” Dean grumbled. 

“Hey look at it this way, Dean,” Sam argued reasonably. “She’s always got someone to protect her. And who better than an angel?”

“I still don’t like it,” Dean replied. “I mean, he’s not even the same species!”

“You’re one to talk,” you spat. “I’ve seen some of the girls you’ve been with. Besides, Cas literally gave up Heaven to help us. The least you can do is try to be cool with him being with me.”

“So you guys are dating?” he asked curiously. “What is that even like?”

“I don’t know, Dean!” you huffed. “It’s been like 2 seconds. I don’t even know what to label it.”

“Yeah well you let him know next time you see him that he and I are going to have a serious talk about his intentions with you,” Dean warned you.

Sam smiled and rolled his eyes. 

“Ok, we’re gonna go now. We’ll see you soon,” Sam told you, coming to your rescue. 

“Thanks, Sam,” you sighed. “See you both later.”

You got into your car, ignoring Dean’s glares and drove off towards the nearest hotel. You checked yourself in, and immediately headed for the shower, washing the past couple of day’s grunge off of you. A clean change of clothes later, and you felt pretty great. 

Suddenly, you felt a pull from the bond. It felt like Cas was trying to get your attention.

“Cas?” you prayed out loud. “Are you okay?”

Again, you felt the pull, more urgently this time. 

“Cas? You’re kind of worrying me. Can you come here?” you asked the room.

The tugging at your bond increased. 

  
“I’m at the Green Hedge Inn, near St. Martin’s hospital. Can you please come here and stop freaking me out?” you asked louder.

“I’m here,” he said, appearing suddenly behind you, causing you to jump about a foot in the air.

“Jesus,” you gasped. “What was that all about?”

“You felt me calling for you? That’s good. Our bond is beginning to work both ways,” he nodded. “I’ve been looking for you for the last hour. The marks I engraved on your ribs hide you from all angels, including me.”

“Oh...okay. Here, I have an extra burner phone,” you said, thoughtfully. You rummaged through your bag and pulled it out. “I’ll program my number, Dean’s, Sam’s...my Dad, but don’t call him unless it’s life or death.”

You programmed the numbers in and handed the phone to Cas. He took it and looked at it with confusion. You smiled and gave him a quick rundown on how to make calls and how to text on it. 

“Thank you,” Cas said. “This will make things much easier. How is your father?”

“He’ll pull through...but the doctors say he probably won’t be able to walk again,” you sighed. “He’ll be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life.”

“Or until all of this gets resolved and I get my connection with Heaven back,” he told you. “I promise, as soon as I am able I will heal your father.”   
  
“Thanks, Cas,” you said, wrapping your arms around him in an embrace. “Until then...I’ll just have to take care of him for a while.”

“Have you told him about us?” he asked, wrapping his arms around him.

“Not yet...I’ll tell him eventually. Now just doesn’t seem like the right time. It’s bad enough with Dean knowing,” you groaned. “Oh by the way, he wants to have a serious talk with you about your ‘intentions’.”

“My intentions?” he asked with confusion.

“Yeah, with me,” you rolled your eyes. “It’s just something big brothers do when they meet their little sister’s boyfriends. It’s his way of protecting me. ” 

“Am I your boyfriend?” Cas asked, curiously.

“That just sounds….weird,” you giggled. “I’m not sure...what would you call us?”

  
“You are my soulmate,” he said simply. “And my intentions are to keep you safe from harm, to keep you happy and well, and to strive to be worthy of being your soulmate.”

You stared up at him and swallowed thickly, emotion brewing behind your eyes.

“Yeah….say those exact words to Dean, and you’ll be in the clear,” you breathed.

He answered you by placing a chaste kiss upon your lips. 


	13. You're a virgin?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off...OMG GUYS! Thanks so much for the incredible response! I know I haven't been super consistent lately with my posting, but I appreciate all of your amazing comments and love for this story! It seriously makes my entire day when I see new comments and likes for this story. I love writing this one and I have it planned out through the end of Season 5. 
> 
> The whole "Raphael" bit is gonna be split into two chapters because I realized how freakin long I was making it and I didn't want to bombard you with a 6 thousand word chapter. So stay tuned for part 2 of this chapter, coming later this week! 
> 
> Love you guys!

As the next few days passed, your father turned more melancholy. It started to settle in his head that he wouldn’t be able to live the life he was used to. You knew he hated the idea of having to depend on anyone, even you, and you tried to placate him the best you could. He would give you a half smile that never really reached his eyes, but mostly he stared out the window defeatedly. 

The boys popped in now and then and did their best to cheer him up. They brought him a new hat that said “World’s Okayest Dad”. Your father grumbled “idjits” at them but nevertheless put the hat on his head. You saw this as progress. 

“So you’re taking him home tomorrow?” Sam asked in a low voice. “Need any help with that?”

“No, I think I can handle it. It’s just gonna take some time adjusting, ya know? For both of us,” you sighed. 

Dean strolled up holding a manilla envelope. 

  
“Where have you been?” you asked. 

“Went to radiology,” he told you, pulling out an X-Ray. “Check this out.”

“Woah,” you gasped, looking at the enochian symbols carved into Dean’s ribcage. “So that’s what our ribs look like now? Neat.”

“Yeah, needless to say, the doctors were baffled,” Dean smirked. 

The sound of Sam’s phone echoed through the room.

“Hello? Oh..Cas?” Sam said baffled. “Um..Ah, St. Martin's Hospital. Yeah, with (y/n). Why? What are you….Cas?”

Cas appeared suddenly in the doorway and Sam hung up with a sigh.

  
“Cell phone, Cas? Really? Since when do angels need to reach out and touch someone?” Dean asked.

“I gave it to him. He can’t find us anymore dummy, not with those rib carvings,” you said, nudging Dean before turning to the angel in question. “Hey Cas.”

“I don't have much time. We need to talk,” he said looking at Dean. “Your plan to kill Lucifer.”

“Yeah, you wanna help?” Dean asked. 

“No. It's foolish. It can't be done,” he said evenly. 

“Oh. Thanks for the support,” Dean scoffed.

  
“But I believe I have the solution. There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer. Strong enough to stop the apocalypse.”

“Who’s that?” Sam asked.

“The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane. The one who began everything. God,” Cas urged. “I’m gonna find God.”

Dean promptly shut the door to the hall before turning back to the angel with disbelief. 

“God...THE God?” he asked.

  
“Yes. He isn't in heaven. He has to be somewhere,” Cas told him.

“Try New Mexico. I hear he's on a tortilla,” Dean smirked.

“Dean,” you reprimanded.

  
“No, he’s not any flatbread,” Cas said with evident confusion.

“He’s joking, Cas,” you explained, punching Dean lightly in the arm.

“Listen, Chuckles, even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that's the generous theory—” Dean started. 

“He is out there, Dean,” Cas promised.

“—or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us.”

Cas glared at Dean. 

“I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally —at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right?”

“Enough!” Cas demanded. “This is not a theological issue. It's strategic. With God's help, we can win.”

“It's a pipe dream, Cas,” Dean scoffed.

Castiel stepped threateningly closer to Dean.

“I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed to stop your brother from destroying the world. I lost nearly everything.  So keep your opinions to yourself,” Cas growled.

“He’s right Dean. Where do you think the angels came from? There’s a God. The question is...how are you going to find him? I mean...it kind of seems like he doesn’t want to be found..otherwise he’d just appear,” you reasoned. 

  
“There is an amulet. Very rare, very powerful. It burns hot in God’s presence. It will help me find him,” he told you, before turning back to Dean. He pointed at the necklace around his neck.

“This?” Dean asked with shock.

  
“May I borrow it?” Cas asked.

“No,” Dean shot back.

  
“Dean, let the guy borrow your necklace,” you sighed. “It’s the least you can do.”

Dean gave you a look but huffed in agreement.

“Fine,” he said, taking the necklace off and handing it to Cas. “Don’t lose it.”

“Thank you,” Cas said.

“Good luck,” you told him. 

“I’ll be in touch,” Cas promised, holding your gaze. 

He vanished just as your Dad finally decided to speak up.

“When you find God, tell him to send legs!” he shouted.

“Don’t worry Dad, come hell or high water, we’ll figure out a way to fix you up,” you promised him. 

“Well, judging by the state of things, I’m betting on hell,” Dean grumbled. 

You punched his arm again. 

* * *

“Home sweet home,” you sighed, wheeling your dad into the house. 

“Right,” he grumbled. 

“Oh come on, it’s good to be home and you know it,” you urged.

“Better than being in the damn hospitals,” he agreed. “With those idjit doctors.”

“Don’t worry, Dad,” you said, parking him at his desk. “We’re gonna figure a way to get your legs back. It might just take some time. Until then, I’m gonna take care of you.”

“I don’t need anyone takin’ care of me,” he argued, reaching for the bottle of whiskey he kept in the drawer. He downed a shot, ignoring your judgemental demeanor. “I’m a grown ass man!”

“I know that, but this,” you gestured to the wheelchair. “This is going to take some time getting used to. And I’m gonna help you, whether you want it or not. And I’m gonna start by building a ramp out front.”

Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and headed outside. You spent the next few days getting the house fixed up to be more handicap accessible. You installed a new ramp, some new safety bars in the bathroom shower and around the toilet (your father refused to let you help him shower or use the bathroom, and you didn’t argue), and you rearranged the kitchen to where he could reach the pots and pans and whatnot. 

You texted Cas a couple of times, but he only replied in short one word answers, usually misspelled with random numbers included. Dean called and explained what happened with Rufus, and the subsequent break he was taking with Sam. You had a few choice words for him about this decision, but decided not to press the matter. Maybe a bit of time apart would do them some good. 

You also found yourself to have more free time than you were used to. Normally, you’d be out there hunting, but you weren’t taking on any jobs with your father in his condition. You found yourself reverting to a hobby you hadn’t touched in quite a while; guitar. You used to play all the time, back before you went on hunts. You used to love playing, and you were happy to find your fingers remembered the strings well.

“It’s good to hear you play again,” your Dad commented. “Haven’t heard you play in a long time.”

“Haven’t had the time,” you smiled, strumming the tune to your dad’s favorite song. 

The sound of your phone cut through your music. You pulled out your phone and felt a rush of excitement seeing it was Cas.

  
“Hey, Cas,” you answered. 

“Hello, (y/n). It’s good to hear your voice,” he said, causing you to smile. “Where are you?”

“Home, you know. In South Dakota,” you answered. 

A second later, there was a knock on the front door. Still smiling, you answered to see Cas still holding the phone to his ear. 

“Thanks for dropping by,” you greeted him.

  
To your surprise, he engulfed you in a hug.

“I have missed you,” he whispered into your ear. 

  
“I’ve missed you too,” you said softly, returning his hug. 

“Damnit!” your dad’s voice echoed from inside, causing you to break apart. 

“Dad?” you called, turning back inside, Cas on your heels. 

You found your father surrounded by a pile of books, strewn across the floor.    
  
“Damn wheelchair,” he grumbled. He looked up and saw Cas. “You. You found God yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. But I may know someone who has answers. Raphael. He is the archangel who killed me,” he said.

“Wait. You’re going after the angel who exploded you into a thousand pieces? That does not sound like the smartest move here,” you concluded.

“He was one of the last angels known to have spoken with God himself,” Cas explained. “He must know something about his whereabouts.”

“But he obliterated you once. What makes you think he won’t do it again?” your father asked. 

“Oh he will absolutely try to smite me again,” Cas nodded. “That’s why I need Dean’s help. With him around, Raphael won’t risk anything...extreme.”   
  
“Because the angels need him,” you guessed. 

  
“Exactly. I tried to call him but he didn’t answer. Do you know where he is?” Cas asked.

“Yeah, I talked to him earlier. He’s at a motel outside Fort Wayne,” your father told him. “This sounds like you’re about to walk into more than you can chew. (y/n) you better go with him and make sure he doesn’t get himself smote again.”

“What about you?” you asked him with concern.

“I’ll be fine. You’ve been cooped up here with me for over a week. I’m sure you could use a break,” he told you. “Go on and help find God. And if you find him…”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll tell him to send you a pair of legs for Christmas,” you joked. “Alright. I’ll be back as soon as I can be. You call me if you need anything.”

You grabbed your hunting bag, your jacket, a couple of knives, and your favorite gun and turned to Cas. 

“Alright, you want to fly us there?”

He looked at you hesitantly.

“This...this is most likely going to be very dangerous,” he began.

“Yeah, that pretty much sums up my entire life,” you smirked. “I’m going with you, so don’t even try to argue. C’mon.”

“Alright,” he conceded. “Think of the motel Dean is staying at. And hold on.”

You grabbed his arm and a second later you were standing outside a shabby motel.

* * *

After a quick discussion with Dean, it was decided you would all take the impala to the last known location Raphael had been in which was a little town in Maine. The drive was long, but you managed to get some sleep in the backseat. A little ways outside of the town, Dean stopped at a fast food place to change into his FBI suit, and you changed into your pencil skirt and blouse. Cas gave you an appraising look as you walked back to the car in your black heels.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a far cry from the usual old jeans and flannels,” you laughed.

“I always think you look beautiful, no matter what you’re wearing,” he said matter of factly, causing you to blush.

“Hey, none of that smoozy gushy crap around me. Which reminds me, I still need to have a talk with you,” Dean said pointing at Cas. 

“Oh about my intentions with (y/n),” Cas guessed. “She warned me about this.”

“You're damn right. I’m only gonna say this once, so listen up,” Dean grumbled seriously, stepping closer to Cas threateningly.

“Dean...really? You wanna do this in the parking lot of a McDonalds?” you sighed with frustration. 

“Yes, I do. You ever hurt her in the slightest way, you better believe I will not rest until I kick your ass so hard, you won’t be able to walk straight for a year. Angel or not, I will find a way to hurt you.”

“Dean, you don’t have anything to worry about,” Cas promised, an intensity shining in his eyes. “To me, (y/n) is the most important thing that has ever existed. I will never let any harm befall her, and I will certainly never inflict her any pain. I will protect her down to my last breath.”

“Good. Glad we understand one another,” Dean said, backing away from the angel. 

“Are you done now?” you asked him, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, we’re good,” he said getting into the car. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Before Cas could climb into the passenger seat, you pulled him away from the car and placed a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“For what?” he asked. 

“For caring about me so much,” you answered with a smile. 

“Let’s go lovebirds!” Dean called from inside the car. 

  
You chuckled and climbed into the backseat.

* * *

“So why are we here again?” Dean asked as you all climbed out of the impala outside of a police station.

“A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel,” Cas told him. 

“And he still has eyes? All right, what's the plan?” Dean asked.

“We'll...tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord, and the officer will tell us where the angel is,” Cas shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Yeaaahh...probably not the best course of action,” you said slowly. “See...humans don’t typically respond well to the supernatural.”

“Or the truth for that matter...so we’re gonna do what us humans do best,” Dean said with a smirk, pulling out a fake ID and handing it to Cas. “We’re gonna lie.”

“Why?” Cas asked still confused.

“Because,” Dean said. “That’s how you become President.”

You laughed at the look on Castiel’s face. 

  
“Don’t worry, just follow our lead. Maybe let us do the talking,” you told him, guiding him inside the building. 

* * *

After talking it through with the deputy, and visiting the man that had been possessed by Raphael, you all came to the conclusion that Raphael was no longer in his vessel. Castiel decided the only way to get the angel back on earth was to do a summoning ritual. According to him it would be very dangerous and would best be done somewhere remote. So while he left to “gather the necessary supplies” as he called it, you and Dean found a shabby run down house far outside of town where you were sure to not be disturbed. You sent a text to Cas letting him know your location, and walked inside the dilapidated building where Dean offered you a cold beer he had procured from the nearby gas station. 

Soon enough, Castiel reappeared holding an old ceramic jug in his hands. 

“Where have you been?” Dean asked curiously.

“Jerusalem,” Cas said deadpanned.

“Oh, how was it?” Dean asked as if he were asking about a vacation the angel took.

“Arid,” Cas replied, causing you to smile.

“I take it that is the supplies you needed?” you asked, nodding at the jug. He nodded. “Do I want to know what’s inside it?”

“It’s oil. It’s very special. Very rare,” he told you, sitting down across from you at the rickety table.

“Okay, so we trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?” Dean asked.

“Dean,” you scolded, rolling your eyes. 

  
“When do we start?” you asked Cas.

  
“Sunrise,” he explained. 

“Well then we have some time to kill,” you offered. 

“Tell me something,” Dean began. “You keep saying we're gonna trap this guy. Isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?”

“No, it’s harder,” Cas said honestly.

“Do we have any chance of surviving this?” Dean asked with concern.

“You two do,” Cas said, not meeting your gaze.

“Hold on, you said with Dean around Raphael wouldn’t dare cause too much trouble. Dean was supposed to be the human shield here!” you exclaimed. 

“With Raphael out of his vessel…..I can’t be certain about anything,” the angel said sullenly.

  
“I’m not gonna let him explode you again,” you promised fiercely. “I don’t care if I have to tackle the bastard.”

“Calm down, sassy pants,” Dean scoffed. “No one’s getting smoted...smoten...smited? Whatever, we’ll figure it out like we always do. Until then...let’s live it up. Got any plans until sunrise?”

“I thought I’d just sit here quietly,” Cas shrugged. 

“Come on...pretend that this is your last night on earth. Just to humor me. I know what I’d pick...booze, women...the usual,” Dean supplied. 

Cas looked away uncomfortably.

“Oh right…,” Dean said looking between the two of you. “You two...uh...need a couple of hours alone together?” 

“Dean,” you gasped with embarrassment. “Dude....shut it.”

Even Cas began to blush. Dean eyes flickered between yours and Castiels embarrassed faces. 

“Oh...I see. You guys haven’t….”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no,” you said hotly, crossing your arms. 

“But you have had a woman, right? Before (Y/N), I mean?” Dean asked. “Or an angel or whatever.”

“Look, I’ve never had the occasion, okay?” Cas said frustratedly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

“You mean to tell me….you’re thousands of years old….and you’re a virgin?” Dean asked him slowly.

“What’s the big deal? (Y/N) is a virgin,” Cas said.

“Cas!” you cried at the exact time Dean yelled “WHAT?!”

“You….you’re a virgin?!” Dean roared with wide eyes.

  
“How did you know?” you asked Cas, ignoring Dean’s stunned look.

“I can feel it...through our bond,” he offered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t want Dean to know.”

“Well it’s just not something I’d like broadcasted to the world!” you sighed. 

“Dude...how are you a virgin?” Dean asked looking honestly confused. 

“I don’t know! No one has ever interested me...that way. And also it’s really hard to find a guy that will stick around after he gets the royal treatment from you, Sam, and Dad!” you argued. 

“Okay, okay...fair point...well okay kids. This is what is going to happen. I’m gonna make myself scarce and find the nearest strip club. You two can have the house all to yourselves,” Dean said, picking up his keys and his wallet. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

He stopped and withdrew a couple of foil wrapped items from his pocket and threw them at Cas. 

“You...use these or I’ll kill you,” Dean swore. 

“What do I do with these?” Cas asked, holding the condoms up.

“Jesus….” Dean muttered, looking at you. “You….explain. I’m out of here.”

With that, Dean exited the house. A moment later you heard the roar of the impala he was gone.


	14. You're my little bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY FRIDAY!!
> 
> Here's the rest of that chapter I promised you! ;) I promise smut is coming, but this chapter just gives you a little teaser. I hope you enjoy!

“That….was the most embarrassing moment of my life,” you sighed, holding your head in your hands. 

“I am sorry,” Cas said slowly. 

“It’s….it’s alright,” you said. “Just….for future reference. Try not to disclose anything about my sexual life to anyone….least of all Dean.”

“Noted,” Cas nodded. He glanced at the strip of condoms he was still holding. “So...what are these used for?”

“They’re uh...prophylactics,” you laughed. “To help stop any unwanted pregnancies.”    
  
“I see,” he said, studying the packages.

“The...man wears it,” you explained, face going red. 

“I think I understand,” he told you. “So Dean expects us to have intercourse?”

“Uh...apparently,” you said nervously, standing up and crossing the room. 

“You don’t want to,” Cas guessed, judging by how tense you looked.

“No...I mean sure at some point I would like to seeing as you’re my ya know..soulmate….it’s just..,” you stumbled, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know it feels like it’s all being forced upon me so suddenly.”

Cas stood and walked over to you. He uncrossed your arms and took your hands in his. 

“I would never force you to do something you were uncomfortable with,” he promised. “It doesn’t matter what Dean says. All I wanted to do was spend what may be my last hours on earth with you.”

You stepped into his arms allowing him to embrace you.

  
“You don’t really think you’re going to die, do you?” you asked in a small voice, your face pressed against his chest. 

“I’m...not sure. It could go either way,” he said honestly. 

“I won’t let you die,” you vowed. 

“I know,” he agreed. “Forget that for now. And forget what Dean is expecting us to do. Let’s get out of here for a while. Anywhere you want to go?”

“Anywhere?” you asked.

“Anywhere.”

“I’ve never seen the ocean before,” you offered. 

“Hold on to me,” Cas commanded and he clutched you tighter to him. 

A second later you found yourself standing on a much softer ground and the sound of waves reached your ears. You looked up and you were standing on the shore of the Atlantic. Well, you guessed it was the Atlantic as it was still nighttime. 

“I could take us to a different ocean, somewhere with daylight,” Cas offered, as if echoing your thoughts. 

“No...this is beautiful,” you breathed, taking in the water as it reflected the stars and the moon above. This particular beach must have been far from any major cities as there was no light pollution. Just the glittering of thousands of stars above you in stark contrast to the inky black sky. It was breathtaking. 

“Thank you,” you gasped smiling up at the night sky. 

“You’re welcome,” he said softly. 

You grinned at him excitedly, and kicked off your shoes and hiked up your pants legs. Without waiting for him, you ran to the shoreline and sunk your feet into the surf. It was frigid, but you didn’t care. You laughed out loud, the sound muffled by the roar of the waves. You took a deep breath, breathing in the salty scent of the air. It smelled clean somehow. You raised your arms high as another wave crashed against your legs, soaking the bottom of your jeans this time. For a while you just stood there, revelling in the sight before you. After a bit, you turned around to see that Cas had built a fire back on the sand and was watching you with a soft smile playing across his lips. You ran back towards him, grateful for the warmth of the fire now that your toes were frozen. 

“Thanks for the fire,” you said, sitting on the soft sand beside him. “And really...thank you again for bringing me here. I’ve gone all over the country on hunts, but somehow I’ve never made it to the coast.”

“Of course. I enjoy seeing you so happy,” he said slowly, smiling down at you.

“I wish there was something I could do for you,” you told him. “You do so much for me...for all of us really. I want to do something for you, but nothing I think of seems comparable. I mean...what kind of gift do you give to an angel?”

“Honestly, your very presence is a gift,” he told you seriously. “You are far more than I deserve.”

You smiled softly at him and sat up on your knees to place a small kiss against his lips.

“That...that is the best gift I’ve ever received,” he said huskily. 

“Oh?” you grinned. “Well then I’ll have to step up my game.” 

With a rush of bravery, you straddled his waist and placed another kiss upon his lips, this one more intense. You felt that familiar warmth you were now used to surge through the bond between you. His hands traveled up your back, holding you closer to him as he responded with ferocity. You buried your fingers in his soft hair as he moved his lips against yours. To your surprise, his tongue darted out seeking entrance. You obliged with a moan, feeling suddenly drunk as your own tongue danced against his. Cas let out a growl and suddenly you were lying back against the sand. Cas continued kissing you deeply, pressing you into the sand with his body. 

One of his hands found purchase at your hip, the other cradled your head. You could feel his arousal through his pants against your hip, and you felt a warmth between your legs signaling your own arousal. Your body practically cried out seeking only him. It felt as though you were starving and the only relief was the feeling of Cas’s skin against yours. You brought your hand down the length of his chiseled shoulders and your fingers brushed up against something soft. Cas jerked back with jolt. 

  
“What happened? Did I do something wrong?” you asked quickly. 

“No, of course not,” he said breathing heavily. “You uh...brushed up against my wings.”

“Oh,” you said quietly, sitting up. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Cas told you gently. “An angel’s wings are very sensitive to touch. That’s why we keep them hidden. You shouldn’t be able to feel them...but then again our situation is different. You could probably see them if I let you.”

“Can I see them? If you don’t mind of course,” you asked intrigued. 

He hesitated, but nodded. 

Slowly, a pair of large black wings unfurled from his back. They shone in the firelight, twinkling like glossy onyx. Here and there were scars, no doubt from his time as a warrior in Heaven. Still, they were absolutely mesmerizing and you starred with awe. 

“They’re beautiful,” you gasped. “Can I...touch them?”

“Angels are very selective about who can touch their wings. Many angels never allow anyone to touch them. It is known as an act of great intimacy,” Cas explained.

“Oh okay. Of course I won’t touch them if it makes you uncomfortable--” you began but he interrupted you. 

“I think I would like it if you touched them,” he said in a low voice. 

You blushed but smiled. You stood up and moved around to get better access to the great expanse of his wings. They were massive. At least 12 feet across if he spread them wide. Tentatively, you reached out.

“Stop me if I do something wrong,” you told him. 

  
He swallowed and nodded. 

Gently, you ran your fingers down the right wing, revelling in the feel. It was warm and softer than velvet, but you could feel how strong the muscles were underneath. You trailed your hand slowly down the length of it and you saw Cas visibly shiver. Urged on by this reaction, you began to stroke the other wing. Cas let out a soft moan, sending heat straight to your core. You could feel his arousal through the bond. He was right, this was intimate. You stroke both of his wings at once and he groaned. He turned and caught your hands in his.

“You must stop, or I fear I won’t be able to stop myself from claiming you,” he growled in an incredibly sexy voice. 

“I thought you already claimed me,” you teased, nodding at the brand on your forearm. 

  
“There is more than one way to claim someone,” he whispered, like a promise. 

“Well….when Dean isn’t around and expecting us to...ya know...Maybe we can explore those ways,” you offered.

“I would very much like that,” he replied with a smile. “But for now, I’m sorry to say our time is running out. Dean will be looking for us soon.”

“Right,” you said, adjusting your clothes. “We should head back.”

“Uh...give me just a moment,” Cas said, looking down at the tent in his trousers. 

“Oh...right,” you said, trying to hide the smile on your face.

“This...this takes some getting used to,” Cas sighed, adjusting his pants awkwardly. 

* * *

“Hello? Are you guys decent? Do I need to keep my eyes shut?” Dean’s voice echoed through the empty house. 

“Very funny, dumbass,” you called rolling your eyes.

Dean strode in warily, taking in your calm appearance. You and Cas were sitting in the same chairs you had been when he left, looking as if you hadn’t moved an inch.

“So... uh...How are you?” he asked you awkwardly.

“Peachy. How was the strip club?” you retorted.

“Not too shabby actually. Maine has some decent strippers,” he smirked. He looked over at Cas. “So uh...did you kids have fun?”

“Yes, it was enjoyable,” Cas told him. “Even though (y/n) got soaked.”

Dean spluttered, his eyes going huge. You laughed hysterically, raising your hand up to Cas who gave you a high five, looking slightly confused. 

“Wooo! Good job Cas!” you cackled before looking over at Dean who seemed to be hyperventilating. “I told him to say that.”

“Oh, god. TMI!” Dean roared.

“We went to the beach you moron,” you cackled, wiping tears of mirth from your eyes. 

“Wait a second...I leave you two alone for hours with a pack of condoms...and you took a beach trip?” he asked purplussed.

“Yep. It was nice,” you stated proudly.

“Well...okay then,” Dean said slowly, nodding his approval. “Good for you. Save it for marriage...or whatever.”

“Can we get on with trapping an archangel?” you asked, rolling your eyes. You got to your feet and crossed the room headed out towards the car. 

“Yeah sure, let’s get this show on the road,” Dean conceded, following you. As you climbed into the car, you heard him whisper to Cas. “Do angels even get married?”

“No,” he answered simply. “Marriage is a human construction.”

“Well you better get constructed buddy, because if you value your life, you had best marry that girl,” Dean threatened him.

“DEAN!” you shouted angrily. “I SWEAR TO ALL THAT IS HOLY, IF YOU DON’T SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE I WILL RUN YOU OVER WITH YOUR OWN CAR!”

Dean had the good graces to look sheepish. He nodded and without a word got into the Impala. The drive back to the hospital was a silent and awkward affair. 

* * *

The three of you slipped into the hospital room where Raphael’s empty vessel was seated, looking on vacantly like an empty shell. Cas began pouring the oil in a circle around the poor guy’s wheelchair. 

“When the oil burns, no angel can touch or pass through the flames, or he dies,” Cas explained. 

  
“Ok, so we trap him in a steel cage of holy fire, but one question. How the hell do we get him here?” Dean asked. 

“Very simple. There's, well, almost an open phone line between a vessel and his angel. One just has to know how to dial.”

  
Cas leaned down and began whispering into the man’s ear, chanting lowly in Enochian.

“I’m here Raphael. Come and get me, you little bastard,” Cas whispered menacingly. 

He stepped outside of the circle. 

“So...how long until he shows up?” you asked. 

“Be ready,” Cas said simply, lighting a match and dropping it into the oil. 

The oil burst into flame and the three of you watched it burn...and burn…..and burn….

“Does it normally take this long?” Dean asked after half an hour. 

“There is no “normally”,” Cas said in a slightly aggravated tone. “This isn’t a procedure we regularly do.”

“Okay, sorry,” Dean said defensively. 

After another hour, the oil burned away.

“I hate to say it but I don’t think he’s coming,” you sighed. “Besides, if we stay in here, we’re bound to get caught by a nurse.”

“She’s right, we need to get going,” Dean said with a yawn. “Us humans need to sleep. We can try again tonight.”

“Alright,” Cas sighed. “Let’s go.”

The three of you left the hospital and drove to a local motel. You and Dean were both exhausted and Cas agreed to let the two of you sleep a few hours. He returned in the evening with a bag of food for the both of you. 

  
“Thanks, man,” Dean said, tearing into a cheeseburger. “That was nice of you.”

“We should go back to the house,” Cas told him. “I went there earlier to prepare. If Raphael does decide to make an appearance, he would not do it so publicly. If we are alone, he may appear to us.”

“Ok, sounds like a plan,” Dean agreed so you packed up and headed for the run down house at the edge of town. 

* * *

  
You entered the house with Dean when suddenly, Cas pulled you back.    
  
“Wait!” he warned, but too late.    
  
A bright light filled the entire house. The shell of the man you visited earlier was inside waiting, lightning shooting from the vessel. The lightbulbs in the house shattered. Outside and intense storm erupted from nowhere. Rain poured 

  
“Castiel,” the angel boomed in a deep voice. 

“Raphael,” Cas answered.

“And I thought you were supposed to be impressive. All you do is black out the room,” Dean taunted. 

“And the Eastern Seaboard,” the angle smirked as lightning flashed outside. 

  
“Dean...please do not goad the archangel,” you muttered. 

Raphael’s gaze locked onto you. Cas stepped protectively in front of you. 

“Ah, and you must be Castiel’s….mate,” he said, lingering with humor on the last word. “It’s a testament to my unending mercy that I do not smite you all here and now.”

“You wouldn’t dare harm them, especially Dean. You need him,” Cas argued. 

“But I will take him to Michael,” Raphael replied. 

“Well then. Sounds terrifying. It does. But, uh, hate to tell you, I'm not going anywhere with you,” Dean said unconcernedly, cracking open a fresh beer. 

“Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer?” the archangel said calmly. 

“Yeah, that was, that was hilarious,” Dean responded. 

“Yes well, he doesn't have anything close to my imagination,” Raphael assured him, taking a few slow steps toward the three of you. 

“Yeah? I bet you didn't imagine one thing,” Dean said slowly, looking between Cas and Raphael. 

“What?”

“We knew you were coming, you stupid son of a bitch,” Dean spat, dropping the lighter into the circle of holy oil that Cas had prepared earlier. Instantly, flames surrounded the archangel trapping him within. Raphael looked furiously up at Dean.

“Don’t look at me, it was his idea,” Dean muttered, losing some of his earlier bravado. 

Cas gave Dean an incredulous look.

“Way to throw him under the bus,” you said, shaking your head at Dean who just shrugged. “Well now we’re all ready for a nice cozy chat, Cas I believe you had something you wanted to ask?”

Cas turned to the other angel. 

“Where is he?”

“God?” Raphael asked. Didn’t you hear? He’s dead, Castiel. Dead.”

For a moment the three of you were silent. Cas looked at him with suspicion.

“God...can’t die,” you said slowly. “I mean….he’s GOD.”

“Oh, I assure you he can,” Raphael said simply. “There's no other explanation. He's gone for good.”

“You’re lying,” Cas said.

“Am I? Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better? Do you think God would have let any of that happen if He were alive?” 

“Oh yeah? Well then who invented the Chinese basket trick?” Dean joked.

“Careful. That's my Father you're talking about, boy,” Raphael said in a low voice. 

“Yeah, who would be so proud to know His sons started the frigging apocalypse,” Dean continued. 

“Technically, that was Sam,” you reasoned, earning a scathing look from Dean. 

“Who ran off and disappeared? Who left no instructions and a world to run?” Raphael said. 

“Yeah, Daddy ran away and disappeared. Maybe he just went out for a pack of smokes,” Dean said with a grin.

You stomped on his foot hard.

“This is funny to you? You're living in a godless universe,” Raphael said sounding nearly heartbroken. 

“And this is what you decide to do with the world He built? Destroy it?” you asked.

“We’re tired,” the archangel said wearily. “We just want it to be over. We just want….paradise.”

He stared at Cas imploringly. 

“So, what, God dies or run off or whatever... and makes you the boss and you decide you can do whatever you want?” Dean asked angrily. 

“Yes,” Raphael replied, seemingly having enough of Dean’s mouth. “And whatever we want, we get.”

With that, the windows burst in an explosion of broken glass. Cas shielded you from the shards and Dean ducked down as well to avoid being sliced open. Rain poured in through the open windows, swept in by the intense wind that was howling outside. Instantly, it soaked through you. Seeing that you weren’t harmed, Cas turned angrily to the other angel. 

“If God is dead, why have I returned?” he shouted over the wind. “Who brought me back?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Lucifer raised you?” Raphael said.

“No,” Cas breathed.

“Think about it. He needs all the rebellious angels he can find. You know it adds up,” he said, almost with a grin. 

Cas looked at him with anger, considering his words. 

You held up your arm and peeled back your wet shirt. 

“What about this?” you called. “Doesn’t this prove that God is still around?”

Raphael eyed the mark on your arm.

  
“That only proves that He was alive when he created your soul. Though, he must have already been going mad to link a mere human to an angel,” he smirked.

“Let’s go,” Cas said suddenly, taking your hand in his. He turned to lead you towards the door when Raphael called out.

“Castiel, I am warning you. Do not leave me here. I will find you.”

  
Cas paused and turned back around to face the angel. 

“Maybe one day. But today, you’re my little bitch,” he said and with that he left the angel, leading you outside.

Behind you, you heard Dean call out to the angel. 

“What he said!”

* * *

You didn’t want to leave your father alone any longer, so rather than having Dean drive you back, you had Cas zap you back home. It was late, so you stood on the porch with Cas, intending to have a proper goodbye. Castiel looked troubled, and you guessed at what was bothering him.

“Hey,” you said gently, taking his hand. “Don’t listen to what Raphael said. Lucifer did not bring you back.”

“How can you be certain?” Cas asked. 

“Because after Raphael exploded you, I did something I hadn’t done since my Mom died. I prayed,” you told him softly. “I prayed harder than I probably ever have in my life. I begged God to bring you back to me. And He did.”

“But what if it was Lucifer that was answering your prayers?” he persisted. 

“It wasn’t,” you said shaking your head. “My gut just tells me it was God who listened. What does your gut tell you?”

He smiled gently down at you and brought your hand to his lips.

“It tells me that my father is still out there somewhere. And I’m gonna find him,” he said with renewed conviction. 

You smiled back at him. 

“Hell yeah you are,” you laughed. “And you know right where to find me if there’s any way I can help.”

“Thank you, (y/n),” Cas said in a low voice. “For having faith in me.”

“I always will,” you told him seriously. “I’ll never take you for granted or forget everything you’ve done for us.”

“You were worth it,” he said, his voice even deeper as he lowered his lips towards yours.

He placed a soft kiss upon your lips and you returned it, snaking your hands around his neck to pull him even closer.

“What the hell is goin’ on out here!?” your father’s voice roared, causing the pair of you to jump apart. 

Your eyes widened horrified to see him in the doorway, glaring at the two of you from his wheelchair. A shotgun lay across his lap. He picked it up and pointed it at the angel. 

  
“Dad!” you exclaimed. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! What the hell are you thinkin? And YOU!” he roared at Cas. “Shouldn’t you be getting with someone I don’t know, at least A THOUSAND YEARS CLOSER TO YOUR OWN AGE?!”

“Dad! Calm the hell down!” you shouted. “Cas, maybe you should go. I’ll uh...explain everything to him.”

“Right...good luck,” Cas said before he vanished.

“HEY I’M NOT DONE WITH YOU, YOU FEATHERED BASTARD!” Dad roared into the sky. 

“Ok, Dad….” you sighed, rubbing your neck awkwardly. “We need to have a talk.”


	15. Morality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god. 
> 
> I'm so sorry for the lack of updates. This chapter....well it really got away from me. As you can see, it's ridiculously long. But it felt weird to split it up. And it also felt weird to not include it. I apologize in advance. Next chapter will be lots of fun when Gabriel enters the scene!
> 
> As always, I greatly appreciate all the feedback I get. You guys are the reason I keep writing. :)

“Let me get this straight….God...bound your soul to an angel?” your father asked slowly, sitting in his wheelchair a sour look upon his face and a glass of whiskey in his hand. “That son of a bitch!” 

It had taken a long time and a lot of cursing on your father’s part, to get him calmed down enough that you could explain the situation to him. 

“Sort of…It’s complicated. Apparently He, ya know..the almighty...forged a sort of connection between the two of us,” you explained, nursing your own beer. “He is bound to me, and I’m bound to him. In layman's terms we’re soulmates.”

“Well tell that winged asshole to un-forge it!” Dad demanded. 

“I don’t think it’s up to Cas, Dad,” you said shaking your head. “You’ll have to take it up with God.”

“Oh believe me as soon as we find his ass, that’s the first thing I’ll be doing,” he growled.

“Why are you so against Cas?” you asked with a frown. “He’s only ever helped us. He literally turned his back on heaven and his entire family for us.”

Your father sighed heavily and took a large gulp of his whiskey.

“Look, I don’t have anything against him personally,” he grumbled. “I just...I don’t want you to be forced into something like this. I always imagined you finding someone...ya know. Normal. Leaving all this behind.”

He waved a hand around at the towers of books and the random weapons that lay about the house. 

“I just want you to have something like what I had with your mother. It was simple, but it was real.”

“I get what you’re saying Dad, I really do,” you said softly. “But I think we both know that normal just isn’t in the cards for me anymore. I’ve seen too much, know too much….felt too much. Hell we both have. What I have with Cas...it’s as far from simple as it’s possible to be. But it is real, I promise you that.”

He stared at you thoughtfully for a minute.

“Do you love him?” he asked. 

You considered this. You had yet to say those words to Castiel, but deep inside you already knew the answer. 

“Yeah,” you said after a moment, a small smile on your lips. “Yeah, I think I do.”

“And does he treat you good?” he urged.

“Dad, he literally told Dean the other day that I, and I quote ‘am the most important thing that has ever existed’,” you told him, rolling your eyes, but smiling at the sentiment. 

“Well at least he has some brains,” your father relented. “Alright… I won’t try to kill your angel boyfriend...yet. But I still don’t like the idea of you with him...or anyone for that matter. I guess part of me still sees you as a little girl, falling out of trees and chasing fireflies... But you’ve been grown for a long time now. And you’ve faced worse things than an angel that has goo-goo eyes for ya.”

You walked across the room and gave your Dad a long hug. 

“Thanks, Daddy,” you whispered, using the name you hadn’t called him since you were little. 

He returned your hug, letting the emotions, (or maybe the whiskey) get the better of him. 

“You let me know if he ever does anything that requires an ass kicking, you hear? I don’t care if I’m crippled, I can still use a gun,” he said seriously.

“Don’t worry,” you laughed. “You and Dean will both be the first ones to know. You can kick his ass together.”

“Well at least there’s something to look forward to,” he grinned. 

You gave him a disgruntled look.

* * *

The next few days were rather quiet for you. You focused on making sure the house was relatively clean and the kitchen was stocked. You helped your dad man the phone lines for the various hunters who called in when they needed their credentials validated. You also worked on your car which had been neglected over the last few months. It wasn’t anything special like Dean’s baby, but you still loved your old Ford Bronco in all it’s rusted glory. 

You also spent some time looking into old spell books, searching for a way to bring back your father’s mobility. Unfortunately, everything you found was rather dark and required human sacrifices, but you continued looking, vowing not to give up until you found something. Your father grumbled, saying you were wasting your time but you ignored him. At least until he threw down a newspaper under your nose. 

“Got a job for you,” he stated.

“Woman scratches her brains out?” you said reading the headlines. “Yeah...that’s pretty weird. Give it to the boys.”

“I’m giving it to you,” he huffed. “Don’t think that I don’t know what you’ve been up to. Cooking me dinner every night, cleaning up around here, doing my laundry. You don’t need to be taking care of me like I’m helpless. What you need to be doing is getting your ass back out there.”

“What are you getting tired of me already?” you asked, pretending he hurt your feelings.

“Don’t give me that shit,” he argued. “Of course I love having you here, but I can tell you’re itching to get back out there. You never were any good at staying in one place for long.”

“I just don’t like leaving you alone. I know you aren’t helpless, you’re far from it. But I also know how sick of that chair you already are and I’m just trying to make this easier for you. At least until we find a solution,” you explained. 

“Your damned right I hate this thing, but I’m not about to put your life on hold just because I’m stuck in it. Look, I can’t be out there fighting off the monsters anymore, but you still can be. The world can’t afford both Singers being out of the game. It needs at least one.”

“It needs both,” you said, grinning. “You can still do plenty here you know, even if you're not out in the field. Someone has to be here for the phone lines and all the research. Sam and Dean would drown without you.” 

“I ain’t arguing that. Speaking of which, you should get them to help you on this one. Things between them are still a little rocky. You might be good for them,” he said. 

“Fine, I’ll take the job,” you conceded. “But I don’t know how much help I can be fixing the problems between those two idiots. I swear ‘Winchester’ must translate into ‘Stubborn’ somewhere.”

* * *

You did end up calling Dean and Sam. They were eager to join you, perhaps because tensions between them were still high and having a third party would relieve the tension a bit. They arrived at your motel room about an hour after you finished up examining the body. Dean surprised you by engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.

“Woah, it’s good to see you too Dean,” you wheezed. “Can’t breathe though.”

“Sorry,” he said, releasing you from his grip. “It’s just….really good to see you.”

“It hasn’t been  _ that _ long,” you laughed. 

“It feels like it has...I mean, you were dead in that alternate future crap,” he said sadly.

“Oh right,” you nodded. “You never did give me the details on that.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know the details,” he shuddered. “Bullet points: I was a dick, Sam was Satan, you were dead, and Cas was a drunken mess.”

“Wow, so you’re the only one who stayed the same,” you joked, earning a scowl from Dean. “Kidding. Hey, Sam.”

“Hey, (y/n),” he said awkwardly. 

“It’s been a while,” you said. “You know, texts are fine and all, but you really should call me more. I worry about you. Especially now.”

“Now that you know I’m the devil’s meat suit?” he sighed.

“Yeah, that. That’s really...that really sucks and I’m so sorry,” you told him awkwardly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry for both of you guys. I mean, both of you have angels trying to get inside you.”

“You know, technically, all three of us have angels trying to get inside us,” Dean pointed out with a smirk on his face. 

  
“DEAN!” you and Sam yelled in unison. 

“What? Just trying to lighten it up around here,” Dean shrugged. “No? Fine….why don’t you tell us about the case.”

You shot another glare over at the elder Winchester but proceeded to tell them about the poor girl who had quite literally scratched her brains out. There was a pink press-on fingernail lodged in her brain. The doctors had no idea why she had gone crazy, but they were sure it was self inflicted. The three of you decided to interview the people who found her. 

Unfortunately, they seemed just as baffled as the mortician. Dean managed to get their son to confess he had put itching powder in his baby sitter’s hairbrush, but a childish prank didn’t warrant a girl scratching her brains out to death. The three of you left, feeling at a bit of a loss when the doctor called your FBI phone. He quickly told you that he had a new arrival that you might be interested in. You all piled into the impala and rushed over to the hospital. 

“Electrocuted?” Dean asked, looking down at the body. “Any idea how?”

“Eh, maybe a loose wire or a piece of equipment shorted out. So far, we haven't found anything,” the doctor shrugged. “I wouldn’t have bothered calling you at all if Agent Rogers hadn’t insisted that I call her for any new accidental deaths that come in.”

“I appreciate your cooperation,” you nodded at the doctor. “Were there any witnesses?”

“Yeah...guy in there,” he replied, pointing to the room across the hall where an elderely man sat in an armchair looking rattled. “Stanley says he saw it, but he's not making a lick of sense. Senile.”

“Thanks,” Sam said, and the three of you entered the room where Stanley was. 

“Hello Mr. Stanley,” you greeted with a warm smile. “We’re with the FBI. Would you mind answering a few questions about what happened today?”

“It was just a joke. I didn't know it would really work,” he said with wide eyes. 

“What would work?” Dean asked.

“All I did was shake his hand,” Stanley continued, holding out his hand to show you the small electric buzzer placed in his palm. 

You shared a look with the brothers beside you.

* * *

“You sure you wanna do this?” you asked, now back in the motel room where Dean had the bright idea to test out the buzzer that killed Mr. Stanley’s friend. 

“Gotta find out if this thing really buzzed that guy to death,” Dean said, donning his rubber glove and his goggles. “Sam, ready the ham.”

Sam shook his head at his brother, but set a large uncooked ham down on the table in front of Dean. 

“Hit it Mr. Wizard,” Sam said, pulling goggles down over his own eyes. 

You took several precautionary steps back.

“Fire in the ham!” Dean called, and he pressed the buzzer against the side of the ham. 

The ham immediately lit up and crackled with electricity. Smoke began to fume out from the meat as Dean continued pressing the buzzer against it. After a few seconds, the ham was charred. Dean pulled his hand away. 

“That’ll do pig,” Dean said, pulling his goggles off. 

“What the hell?” Sam breathed in shock. 

“They sell those things at the dollar store. I mean...I don’t think it even has batteries….” you said with awe. “How the hell can it do that?”

“What are we looking at here? Maybe cursed objects?” Sam guessed. 

“Sounds good to me,” Dean shrugged. “Maybe a powerful witch in town?”

He flipped open his pocket knife and carved a chunk of charred ham off the platter. He popped the meat into his mouth and nodded appreciatively. 

“Gross,” you commented with a frown, looking down at the still smoking ham.

“Tastes shockingly good to me,” Dean replied with a grin. You rolled your eyes at him. “Any connection between the itching powder and the buzzer?”

“Uh...made in two separate countries, but they were both sold at the same magic shop called ‘The Conjurarium” Sam said. 

“Guess it’s time to pay that place a visit,” you said, poking the side of the ham curiously.

“Hey! Get your hands off my ham!” Dean scolded you, pushing you away from his lunch. 

* * *

The visit to the magic shop turned out to be a bust, though Dean was ecstatic to find they had whoopie cushions. The curmudgeon shop owner definitely didn’t know anything about his products going haywire, judging from the reaction he had to Dean melting a rubber chicken with the Death-Buzzer. Once again, that left you with no leads so you decided to call it a night. You all headed back to the hotel where you threw out a few theories over a few beers, but soon the case fell away from your discussion. You ordered a pizza and began strumming on your guitar that you had brought with you. 

Soon, it was just the three of you hanging around, joking with each other in a carefree way that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. It felt like old times before the apocalypse loomed over your heads. Back when it was just the three of you on the road in search of the next case. 

“So how’s Bobby doing?” Sam asked while Dean shoveled a third slice of pizza into his face. 

“He’s...coping,” you sighed, taking a sip from your beer. “He puts on a tough face for me, but I know not being able to use his legs is really starting to take a toll on him. He feels useless, even though we both know that’s definitely not the case. I’m still looking for some way to fix him up but so far I haven’t come up with anything. No voodoo spell, no potion...well nothing that requires human sacrifice or my soul.”

“Well once Cas gets his mojo back, he can heal him,” Dean offered. 

  
“Problem is we don’t know when that will be. I mean...between trying to find God and icing the Devil...who knows? I try to keep Dad optimistic, but you know what a grumpy old man he can be. Oh! You should have seen the look on his face when he found out about me and Cas,” you laughed aloud. 

“You told him?” Sam asked with wide eyes. 

“Well, he sort of walked in on us…..” you began.

“Oh God, poor Bobby!” Dean groaned. 

“We were just kissing you perv,” you reprimanded him, punching him lightly in the shoulder. “But that was enough. He nearly shot Cas right there on the porch.”

“Good man,” Dean nodded. “So how much does he know?”

“I told him everything,” you sighed. “Figured it was time to come clean. It took some convincing, but he’s come to terms with it. At least he promised not to shoot Cas on the spot next time he sees him.” 

“For now,” Dean grinned. “Just wait until you start coming home at 3am covered in hickies.”

“Dude...I’m 26...not 16,” you scoffed. “If I want to be covered in sex bruises and bite marks, that’s my perogative. Not that Cas would be into it. I mean….I don’t know. Do angels have kinks? You know what? I’m shutting up now.”

Dean howled with laughter. 

“I can’t imagine that little nerd having any crazy sexual kinks,” he shook his head. “Sorry, toots. I think you’re in for plain ol’ vanilla.”

“Well, if it ever becomes Rocky Road, you’ll be the first to know,” you promised evilly. 

“Please don’t,” Dean grimaced. 

“I second that. It’s bad enough I’m subjected to his sex life,” Sam said guesturing at Dean. 

“Cheers to that,” you agreed, clinking your beer against his. 

* * *

The next morning you awoke to your phone going off. It was the doctor yet again, this time with a ‘live one’ as he put it. You quickly dressed and woke up the guys and made your way over to the hospital. You and Sam interviewed the man in the hospital bed while Dean flirted with a nurse. Apparently during the night, someone broke into his home and pulled every single tooth out of the poor man’s mouth. 

“So what’s up with toothless? Epic case of Gingivitis?” Dean asked, watching the nurse walk away. 

  
“Nope…..this time it was the Tooth Fairy,” you sighed. 

“The Tooth Fairy?” Dean asked suspiciously. 

“Yep,” Sam answered. “According to Mr. Blevins, he was five foot ten, three hundred fifty pounds, had wings, and a pink tutu. It also left thirty-two quarters underneath his pillow. One for each tooth.”

“Well the guy is obviously wacked out on painkillers,” Dean acquiesced. 

“Maybe. Whatever it was got past locked doors and windows without triggering the alarm,” Sam said. 

  
“My bet is still on witch….but this really doesn’t fit a witch's normal MO,” you frowned. “It’s just too...bizarre.”

“Yeah, well it gets even weirder,” Dean said. “I learned from nurse Jen that there's a couple of kids upstairs with stomach ulcers—say they got it from mixing Pop Rocks and Coke. Another guy...his face...froze that way.”

“What way?” Sam asked in confusion.

Dean made a silly face, crossing his eyes and pulling out the sides of his mouth. You tried to suppress your laughter, given the situation.

“He, uh, held it too long, and it—it stuck. They're flying in a plastic surgeon,” Dean explained. 

“So if you add all that up,” Sam started. “Yeah I got nothing.”

“It’s like...childish pranks are coming true,” you thought aloud. 

“You’re right,” Dean said thoughtfully. “Maybe that's the connection. The tooth fairy, the Pop Rocks and Coke, the joy buzzer that shocks you—they're all stupid pranks that kids believe.”

“Okay, so whatever's doing this is—is reshaping reality. It has the powers of a god. Or a trickster…” Sam began. 

  
“Yeah, with the sense of humor of a nine-year-old,” Dean scoffed. 

  
“Or you,” you and Sam said at the same time. 

  
Dean shot the pair of you a dirty look. 

* * *

An hour or so later, you found yourself pouring over a town map with Sam at the library. Dean had chosen to remain behind to ‘let the nerds work in peace’ as he had claimed. Sam was quick to spot there was a radius in which these crazy things happened and at the very center was an old farmhouse. You brought the map back to the hotel room where you found Dean shoving more ham into his face. 

“Gross, dude. You’re gonna get food poisoning,” you badgered him. 

“We don’t have a fridge,” he shrugged. “Besides it tastes fine to me. What did you nerds dig up?”

Sam quickly explained about the radius of weird things going on, explaining that all the bizarre occurrences seemed to center around that house. 

  
“Uh...our motel isn’t in that circle is it?” Dean asked with trepidation, scratching at his hand. 

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

  
Dean held up his hand showing his palm, which was covered in hair. 

“Oh gross!” you groaned. 

“What? I got bored, and that nurse was hot!” Dean grumbled. 

“You know you can go blind from that too?” Sam jested. 

“Yeah yeah, just give me five minutes and we can go,” Dean muttered, heading for the bathroom to go shave his hairy palm. 

“Don’t even think about using my razor!” Sam called after him. 

You shared a look with Sam before you both broke out into synchronized laughter. 

* * *

After visiting the farmhouse, you all discovered that everything was centered around a little boy named Jesse who seemed to be bending reality to his childish beliefs. He didn’t even seem to realize he was doing it, and you didn’t make him aware of the fact. Sam dug into his birth records to find out he was adopted and that his biological mother lived a couple of towns over. That was your next stop on your trek to find answers. Unfortunately, it turned even crazier from there. After meeting the wary mother, you managed to discover that she had been possessed while she conceived Jesse. 

“That makes Jesse…,” Dean began. 

  
“Half human, half demon,” you finished for him with a huge sigh. 

“So what now?” Sam asked.

“Now we need help,” Dean answered. “Why don’t you give your boyfriend a call? See if he can shed some light on whatever this is.”

“Yeah, alright,” you agreed, climbing into the Impala. 

You called Cas, feeling awkward as the guys listened in from the front seat. Luckily, Cas picked up. You explained the situation to him and his tone got very serious. He asked where you were and you told him the name of your motel. He promised to meet you there immediately. Indeed when you walked into the motel room, Cas was there waiting on the three of you. 

You couldn’t help the smile that formed across your lips as he pulled you into a brief hug. 

“Thanks for coming,” you told him. 

“Of course. It’s lucky you found the boy before the demons did,” Cas said earnestly. 

“Oh yeah, real lucky. Now what do we do with him?” Dean asked.

“Kill him,” Cas said shortly. 

“Woah, hold on there,” you protested. “We aren’t killing a child.”

“You must understand,” Cas started. “This child is half demon and half human, but it's far more powerful than either. Other cultures call this hybrid cambion or katako. You know him as the antichrist.”

Cas sat down at the table where a fart sound echoed from underneath him. Everytime he moved, the noise got worse until at last it was silent. You sighed and shot a pointed look over at Dean who looked very amused. 

“That wasn’t me,” Cas told the room. 

“No, it wasn’t,” you sighed, stepping closer to him and pulling the whoopie cushion out from under his leg. You threw it at Dean, hitting him in the face. 

“Anyway….” Sam said trying to get things back on track. “So...Jesse is the devil’s son?”

“No, of course not. Your Bible gets more wrong than it does right. The antichrist is not Lucifer's child. It's just demon spawn. But it is one of the devil's greatest weapons in the war against heaven,” Cas explained. 

“Well, if Jesse's a demonic howitzer, then what the hell's he doing in Nebraska?” Dean asked. 

“The demons lost him. They can't find him. But they're looking,” Cas said.

“If he’s such an asset to them, how did they lose him?” you asked, your brows furrowed. 

“Because of the child's power. It hides him from both angels and demons. For now,” Cas told you. 

“So he's got, like, a force field around him. Well, that's great. Problem solved,” Dean supplied. 

“With Lucifer risen, this child grows strong. Soon, he will do more than just make a few toys come to life—something that will draw the demons to him. The demons will find this child. Lucifer will twist this boy to his purpose. And then, with a word, this child will destroy the Host of Heaven,” Cas warned. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. You're saying that—that Jesse's gonna nuke the angels?” Dean asked in disbelief. 

“We cannot allow that to happen,” Cas said simply. 

You shared a look with the brothers, all of you noticing the resolve on Castiel’s face. 

“Well we can’t just kill the kid,” you said earnestly. “He’s an innocent child who doesn’t know anything about this.”

“I understand it is regrettable…” Cas began.

“Regrettable?” you scoffed. “Cas, you’re talking about killing a kid. That’s a little more than regrettable.”

“This is war,” he said darkly. “In order to win, sacrifices will have to be made.”

“Well we aren’t sacrificing a fucking kid!” you shouted, becoming angry with the angel. “Otherwise, we’re no better than the demons!”

“Millions of children will be sacrificed if the demons get ahold of him!” Cas said hotly, his voice raised. 

“Woah woah woah, cool it with the lovers quarrel,” Dean interjected. “Hey, look, we are not going to kill him. All right? But we can't leave Jesse here either. We know that. So...we take him to Bobby's. He'll know what to do.”

“You'll kidnap him?” Cas asked, clearly unconvinced at the idea. “What is going on in this town, it's what happens when this thing is happy. You cannot imagine what it will do if it's angry. Besides, how will you hold him? With a thought, he could be halfway around the world.”

“So we tell him the truth. You say Jesse's destined to go dark side—fine. But he hasn't yet. So if we lay it all out for him—what he is, the apocalypse, everything—he might make the right choice,” Sam offered.

Cas paused, staring intently at Sam. 

“You didn’t,” he said angrily. “And I can't take that chance.”

He shot you a final look and disappeared in an instant. 

“Dammit Cas,” you growled. “We gotta get over to Jesse’s house now.”

The three of you rushed over to the house. You didn’t even bother knocking, instead Sam kicked in the door. You rushed into the living room to find Jesse looking terrified. 

“Hey, hey,” you soothed him, bending down to his level. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“N...No,” he mumbled. “I’m okay.”

“Was there a guy here in a trench coat?” Dean asked the kid. 

  
Jesse pointed down at the floor. You looked down to see what looked like an action figure. Tentatively you picked it up, inspecting it closer. It looked exactly like Cas, brandishing a knife and a sorrowful expression carved on his face. Your eyes grew huge as you handed it to Dean.

“Okay…” you stuttered. “Jesse, I think we need to have a talk.”

Of course, your talk was interrupted by a demon who was now wearing the body of Jesse’s biological mother. She tried to convince Jesse to come with them instead, manipulating him with her version of the truth. The boy almost fell for it, but at the last moment he made the right choice. With only a thought, Jesse expelled the demon from the woman’s body and she fell to the floor, unconscious. 

“Is she gonna be okay?” Jesse asked, looking down at his biological mother’s body.

  
“Yeah...eventually,” Dean said.

You picked up the Cas figure from the mantle. 

  
“Hey, Jesse, do you think you can change him back?” you asked the kid. “The thing is...he’s a friend of ours.”

“Yeah, and her boyfriend,” Dean added, pointing at you.

“Your boyfriend tried to kill me!” Jesse exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I know, kid. And I’m pretty pissed off at him for that,” you said, hoping that Cas could hear you. “But he’s actually one of the good guys. He was just… confused.”

Jesse gave you an unconvinced look. 

“Ya know what? It’s been a long night. We can talk about this later,” Dean said, ignoring the dirty look you shot at him. “We need to get you someplace safe.”

“What if I don't want to go?” Jesse asked in a small voice. 

Sam knelt down in front of the boy. 

“You're powerful. More powerful than...pretty much anything we've ever seen. That makes you—” 

“A freak,” Jesse interrupted. 

“To some people, maybe. But not to us. See, we're kind of freaks ourselves,” Sam told him.

You nodded, giving the boy a kind smile. 

Jesse agreed reluctantly that he would go with you. You allowed him a few minutes to say goodbye to his parents, but then a few minutes went by and he didn’t come back down. The three of you rushed upstairs to find his bedroom empty.

“He’s gone,” a voice said behind you.

You whirled around and found Cas in the doorway, restored to his normal self. 

“Where did he go?” Sam asked. 

“I don't know. Jesse put everyone in town back to normal—the ones still alive. Then he vanished,” Cas said, not meeting your eyes. 

“Look,” Sam said, finding a note on the boy’s bed. 

“What does it say?” Dean asked. 

“That he had to leave to keep his parents safe, that he loves them, and he's sorry,” Sam said, reading the note. 

“So how do we find him?” Dean asked, looking at Cas.

  
“With the boy's powers, we can't. Not unless he wants to be found,” Cas replied. 

* * *

With that, there wasn’t much left you could do. Cas transported Jesse’s biological mother back to her house while the boys drove you back to the motel. Once you were alone, you sighed defeatedly and collapsed onto the bed.

“Hello,” a voice said, cutting through the silence. 

You jumped, hand going for the knife in your boot before you realized it was Cas. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking sheepish.

“Didn’t think you’d be coming back tonight,” you greeted him gruffly, moving to sit at the end of the bed. 

“You’re still angry with me,” Cas guessed, looking crestfallen.

“Yeah, a little,” you said honestly. “And not only for nearly killing a child, but for what you said to Sam as well. You hurt his feelings, you know.”

“He started the apocalypse,” Cas said deadpanned. “Forgive me if I’m still a little bitter about it.”

“You’re right, he did start it. But he was manipulated into it. I’m not saying that gives him a pass, but he is trying his hardest to clean up the mess he’s caused. He’s made some really dumb decisions, but he’s still my brother and I’m still going to stick up for him,” you told him hotly. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings,” Cas sighed, sitting down beside you. “I am sorry. The search for my father has not been going well and Lucifer is only growing in strength. I am feeling….”

“Frustrated,” you supplied. “And a little bit desperate. I know, I can feel it.”

He took hold of your arm and ran his fingers over the mark.

“Just as I feel your anger,” he said softly. “I don’t wish for you to be angry at me.”

“It really bothers me….that you’re willing to let a child die,” you told him seriously. 

“It has been ingrained in me since my creation that a child of both a demon and a human is an abomination, one that must be destroyed immediately,” he told you.

“Well, that’s one good thing about leaving home I guess,” you said. “You get to set your own limits and choose your own morality. If it doesn’t feel right to you, it probably isn’t.”

“I am sorry,” he apologized again, pleading at you with those crystalline eyes. 

“I know,” you said softly. “At least you didn’t hurt him. So….I guess no harm done. And I’m sorry the search for God isn’t going well.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder and let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. 

“It is becoming increasingly harder to be away from you,” Cas admitted. “I only feel complete when I am with you.”

“Maybe you should stick around more,” you smiled, looking up at him. 

“I wish that I could,” he sighed. “If I had it my way, I’d never leave your side.”

“You’d get tired of me after a while,” you teased. 

“Never,” he growled, pulling you in for a kiss. 

You moaned and pulled him down by the collar of his coat, pressing him harder against you. He grabbed your hip roughly, pulling one leg up to wrap around his waist. You buried your hands in his soft hair as your tongues began to dance around each other. 

A knock sounded from the front door followed by the sound of Dean’s voice. 

“Hey, it’s me,” he called through the door.

You groaned in frustration. Cas stood up quickly and you stomped over to the door, throwing it open.

“What?” you asked shortly. 

He took in your disheveled appearance and looked past you to see Cas standing in your room. 

  
“Oh, sorry. I was gonna see if you wanted anything from the burger place, but I can see you’re occupied with your vanilla ice cream,” he said suggestively. “Hey there Cas. Glad to see you two have made up.”

“Well we were trying,” you huffed. “So yeah, I’m good. He’s good. I will see you in the morning. Night!”

“Try to keep it down,” you heard Dean snigger before you shut the door in his face. 

“What ice cream was Dean referring to?” Cas asked looking around confused. “I don’t see any frozen dairy in here.”

“Nevermind him,” you sighed, kicking off your shoes. “It was just a dumb joke he made earlier. You can always count on Dean to ruin the mood.”

“It’s probably for the best. I’m honestly not quite sure what to expect the first time we...have relations. I’d rather not do it in a less than hygienic motel room beside your brothers,” he said. 

“Oh...do you think there will be a problem...with us doing that?” you asked, going red in the face. 

“Not a problem per say...but it may be difficult for me to hold back,” Cas explained looking bashful. “My grace...when I lose control...it can affect the power sometimes.”

“I see,” you grinned. “Well...I guess we’ll have to get away sometime, just the two of us. To experiment.”

“I would like that,” he grinned back at you. 


	16. NutCracker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Just wanted to thank EVERYONE for their amazing support on this story. I never thought it would do this well. As for this chapter, I'm splitting the whole Trickster/Gabriel debacle into 2 chapters because it's just too big. Here's the first part and I hope you like it :)

“What the hell are you watching?” you asked Dean, looking up from the heels you were slipping into at the sound of breathy moans coming from the TV.

“Hospital show,” Dean said without looking away from the screen. “Dr. Sexy MD. I think it’s based on a book.”

“Yeah maybe one of those dollar store romance novels,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the over dramatic acting playing out on the television.

“I was just channel surfing,” Dean shot as you shared a grin with Sam. “You guys ready yet?”

“Good to go,” Sam said, still grinning.

“Let’s go,” you said, slipping on your other FBI heel. 

* * *

Later that evening you returned to the motel with Sam having just poked around the house where the supposed incredible hulk had smashed through and ripped a poor man’s head off. It was comical almost how the hole in the front of the house resembled the body of well...the Hulk.

“So what do you got?” Sam asked his brother.

“Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. He's got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions. You might say you wouldn't like him when he's angry,” Dean smirked.

“So a hothead getting killed by TV's greatest hothead. Kinda sounds like just desserts, doesn't it?” Sam suggested as if he was on to something. “It's all starting to make sense.”

“I’m sorry, I’m missing something. How does any of this make sense?” you asked purplussed.

“Well, with what we found at the crime scene,” Sam said, pulling out several candy bar wrappers. He looked over at Dean. “You know who this makes me think of?”

“Just desserts, sweet tooth, screwing with people before you kill 'em—we're dealing with the Trickster, aren't we?” Dean huffed.

“Refresh my memory. I wasn’t there for the whole trickster debacle,” you said. 

“Trickster….pretty much all powerful. Can bend reality around himself. Killed me over and over and made Sam watch,” Dean summed up.

“Yea and made me hunt him down for almost a year,” Sam added. 

“Damn....So we thinking this is the same thing?” you asked.

“Fits the M.O,” Sam shrugged. 

“So how do we find him?” you asked.

“Listen to police scanners until we hear something bizarre,” Dean said. “We’ll go after him and stab him with a stake that has been dipped in the blood of his victim.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t kill him,” Sam suggested. 

“What, you wanna invite him for coffee?” you asked.

“No, I’m thinking that maybe he doesn’t want the end of the world to happen. Maybe he doesn't want the party to end. Maybe he hates this angels and demons stuff as much as we do. Maybe he'll help us.”

“Those are an awful lot of maybes,” you replied. 

“You’re serious? You wanna ally with the trickster? A bloody, violent monster, and you wanna be Facebook friends with him? Nice, Sammy,” Dean growled.

“The world is gonna end, Dean. We don't have the luxury of a moral stand. Look, I'm just saying it's worth a shot. That's all. If it doesn't work, we'll kill him,” Sam argued.

“Well...I guess I’ll head to the morgue to dip a steak in Bill Randolph,” you sighed, getting slightly annoyed at the tension building between the brothers. “You two listen to the police scanner.”

* * *

A little while later you got a hit on the police scanner and the three of you headed towards the old paper mill nearby. Surprisingly, the three of you found the mill to be completely abandoned. Not a cop car in sight.

“There was a murder here, and there's no police cars. There's nobody. How's that look to you?” Dean asked, handing you a stake.

“Not promising,” you sighed. 

The three of you opened the shabby door and walked into…..a hospital?

You were standing in the middle of a very operational hospital floor. Nurses and doctors were walking around holding clipboards and talking to each other, oblivious to your arrival. You looked down and saw you were suddenly wearing medical scrubs. You looked over at the boys and saw they were wearing the same, but they had on doctors coats. 

“What the hell?” you breathed in unison with Dean. 

A pretty asian nurse walked by and smiled suggestively at Sam. 

“Doctor,” she greeted. 

“Doctor,” her friend greeted Dean. 

“Doctor?” Sam asked.

  
You turned around and reached for the door you had just come through. Inside you didn’t find the exterior of the building, but a couple passionately making out in a storage closet. You quickly shut the door.

“So...the trickster...bends reality,” you breathed in shock. “Gotta say that’s some bending.”

A pretty brunette doctor approached the three of you.

“Doctor,” she greeted Dean. “Nurse Lovemore.”

“Hey, why am I a nurse?” you said, slightly annoyed. “And what’s with the name?”

Suddenly the pretty doctor slapped Sam.

“Seriously? You're brilliant, you know that? And a coward. You're a brilliant coward,” she said angrily.

“Um. What are you talking about?” Sam asked, rubbing his face. 

She slapped him again.

“As if you don't know!” she exclaimed before stalking off. 

Dean looked after her in admiration. 

“I don’t believe this!” he gasped. “That’s Dr. Piccolo!”

“Who?” you asked.

“Dr. Ellen Piccolo, the sexy yet earnest doctor at Seattle Mercy Hospital,” Dean explained.

You all noticed the sign hanging up behind the reception desk.

“Oh my god are we in your crappy medical tv show?” you asked, realization dawning on you.

“Looks that way!” Dean smiled. 

“What the hell,” you gasped again. 

“Quick….I need a theory,” Dean said trying to come to grips with this new bizarre reality.

“Uhh…” you answered dumbly.

“Any theory,” Dean continued. 

“Trickster trapped us in TV land?” Sam suggested. 

“Yeah, but TV land isn't TV Land. I mean, there's actors and, and lights and crew members, you know. This looks real,” Dean dismissed.

“Well you said he could fabricate reality and he’s all powerful. He made Sam live a year that didn’t exist,” you reminded him. 

“There goes Dr. Wang. The sexy but arrogant heart surgeon,” Dean pointed out the pretty asian doctor. 

“Is everyone in this show ‘sexy’?” you asked. 

“And there's Johnny Drake. Oh, he's not even alive, he's a ghost in the mind of...Of her. The sexy yet neurotic doctor over there,” Dean continued ignoring you.

“So...this show has ghosts? Why?” Sam asked. 

“I don't know. It is compelling,” Dean replied.

“I thought you were just channel surfing,” you snickered.

“Ok fine, it’s a guilty pleasure,” he admitted. Suddenly his face went slack and he had wide eyes, clearly in awe. “Oh my god. There he is.”

“Who?” you asked?   
  


The elevator doors opened up to reveal a handsome doctor with long sandy hair and a well groomed beard. 

“It’s Dr. Sexy,” Dean breathed. 

He approached the three of you.

“Doctor,” he greeted Sam. 

“Uh..Doctor,” Sam replied.

“Nurse Lovemore,” he greeted, raking an appreciative glance over your figure. 

“Doctor,” you greeted him with narrowed eyes. 

“Doctor,” he greeted Dean. “You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Biehl?”

“Uh...one reason?” Dean asked, glancing over at you for help. You shrugged. Dean glanced down, searching for answers when suddenly his face became enraged. He slammed the doctor up against the wall.

“You're not Dr. Sexy,” he growled. “I could have sworn part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots. Not tennis shoes.”

You brought out your stake which was conveniently located in your pocket. Suddenly, everyone on the floor freezed in their tracks. Dr. Sexy transformed into a completely different person.

“You guys are getting better!” the trickster exclaimed with glee. He looked over at you. “Well hello gorgeous. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure...yet.”

“The trickster is a horn dog,” you said dead panned. 

“What can I say? I have a type...and beautiful is my type,” he winked at you. 

“Enough. Get us out of here,” Dean growled. 

“Or what?”

Suddenly the stake you were holding disappeared. Judging from Sam and Dean’s expressions, their’s vanished as well. 

“That was you on the police scanner, right? This is a trick,” Sam asked him.

“Hello? Trickster. Come on! I heard you two yahoos were in town. How could I resist? Didn’t know you were gonna bring your sweet surrogate sister along,” he said giving you another cheeky grin. 

“Ok, that’s enough. Where the hell are we?” Dean demanded.

“Like it? It's all homemade. My own sets, my own actors...call it my own little idiot box,” the trickster said happily. 

“How do we get out?” you asked.

“That my little filet mignon is the sixty-four dollar question,” he replied.

“Whatever. We just, we need to talk to you. We need your help,” Sam tried.

“Oh yes...Hm, let me guess. You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess,” he guessed. 

“Please. Just five minutes. Hear us out,” Sam urged.

“Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we'll talk,” the trickster said as if it was a reasonable request. 

Thus started the insane journey into TV land. A few minutes later, Dean ended up getting shot and Sam had to patch him up in a real operating room. You assisted, handing him fishing line, whiskey, and all the other supplies you usually used to patch each other up. The other nurses in the room gave the pair of you baffled looks. Suddenly, the world went dark. 

You blinked open your eyes and found yourself standing on a stage and wearing considerably less clothing. In fact you were a red leather bra complete with a red leather mini skirt. You reached up and felt a devil horn headband. Your feet were crammed into high red heels and you had to fight to keep your balance.

“What the hell?” you breathed, looking around with wide eyes.

A Japanese man appeared from behind a pair of doors and began spouting in Japanese. He was clearly a host of some kind of tv show. Indeed, Sam and Dean appeared as well strapped to a platform by their shoes. A bright red ball attached to a lever stood before each of them. The host yelled out ‘NUTCRACKER’ and you quickly put two and two together. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed, half with mirth, half in horror.

“What the hell is this? What are you wearing!?” Dean asked, trying to avert his eyes from your scantily clad form. 

“I don’t know! I didn’t pick it!” you cried. 

The host began talking in Japanese, shooing you to the side. You walked to the side of the stage warily. The host turned to Sam and asked him something in Japanese. 

“What?” Sam asked, confused.

The large digital clock on wall began counting down the seconds. 

“Uh, what am I supposed to say?” he asked. 

“Try speaking Japanese!” you called.

“I don’t know Japanese!” he yelled back frantically. 

The clock counted down to 0 and the host looked gleefully at Sam. You heard him mutter the name ‘Ruby’ which must have been the answer to the question he asked.

“I’m sorry Sam Winchester,” the host said in english not looking sorry at all.

“Sorry? Sir? For what?” Sam asked in a panicked voice. 

The host didn’t have time to answer before the red metal ball flew up and hit Sam right in his family jewels. Instantly, Sam doubled over with pain.

“Ooohhh,” you let out sympathetically. 

“NUTCRACKER!” the host cried, punching the air with laughter.

Suddenly a bag of chips were thrust into your hands and you were pushed out onto the stage. A spot light hit you and the crowd went silent. 

“Uhh…” you muttered, not sure of what to do. You looked down at the bag of shrimp chips in your hands. “Ew gross. Shrimp flavor.”

“No no no!” The host muttered, snatching the chips from your hands and muttering in Japanese. 

Suddenly the doors opened again and Cas walked through. 

“Cas!” you cried, running over as fast as you could in those heels. 

He looked over at you and his eyes bulged out of his head, taking in your very revealing outfit. 

“(y/n)...what....what are you wearing?” Cas asked awkwardly, staring blatantly at you.

“Never mind that, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“Looking for you. You've been missing for 3 days,” he said with concern. “Are you alright?”

“She’s fine, get us the hell out of here!” Dean yelled. 

Cas strode over to the boys and went to release them but suddenly a flash of electricity pushed him back towards you.

“No, no, no, no. Mr. Trickster does not like pretty-boy angels,” the host said in english.

Suddenly, you felt the floor beneath you vanish and you were once again engulfed in darkness.

* * *

You blinked open your eyes and smelled the salty air. You looked around quickly, blinking the sun out of your eyes. You were on a sun chair on the deck of a huge ship out at sea. You could see miles and miles of open ocean around you. 

“Morning sleeping beauty, or should I say good afternoon,” a voice said beside you. 

You turned and saw the trickster lounging in the chair beside you. 

“Where’s Cas?” you demanded at once. 

“Easy, he’s right there,” he said pointing to the chair on the other side of you where Cas layed still unconscious. 

“What about Sam and Dean?” you asked. 

“Those mutton heads have their own shows to feature in,” he waved you off. “Besides, I thought you and angel boy could use some alone time if you catch my drift.” 

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

“How do you know about me and Cas?” you asked warily.

“Oh honey, you would be astounded at what I know. But never mind me. See, I know all about you and Castiel and color me intrigued. So here’s what’s gonna happen. You and Cas are gonna star in some of the best romantic cinematic moments humans ever created. Call it a gift.”

“A gift?” you scoffed. “Forcing us to act in your weird fake world? If it’s all the same to you I’d rather be shown the door.”

“Like I said, survive the game, and you’ll walk free. I promise,” he said with a shrug. “Know which movie you’re in now?”

You looked around and saw several passengers strolling by in a leisurely manner. Judging by the 1900’s style clothing they wore, it wasn’t in your normal time period. You looked down and noted the expensive beaded gown you wore. You put it all together in your head. 

“Are we in freakin Titanic?” you asked suddenly. 

“Bingo!” the trickster yelled. “A movie I know for a fact you have seen and secretly love.”

“How did you know that?”

“Puhleease. Every woman likes this movie, even ones who get covered in monster guts on a regular basis,” he said. “So….you know what to do to get out of here. I suggest you do it before that ice burg gets too close.”

With that he vanished into thin air. 

You groaned and turned to gently shake Cas awake. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

“The trickster transported us into a movie,” you sighed. 

“What? How can that be?” he asked.

“I don’t know he’s the trickster. He has almost unlimited power,” you shrugged. “He wants us to recreate one of the most iconic scenes of this movie. He won’t let us out until we do and between you and me this ship is headed for an iceberg. Come on, I know where we have to go.”

You took his hand and began walking down the deck towards the stern. You admired the way the director of the film had gotten even the minute details correct. The ship was gorgeous and the sunset on the horizon was even more breathtaking. The people around you seemed to ignore your presence, making you wonder if anyone could even see you.

“This trickster shouldn’t be this powerful. It’s unheard of,” Cas said darkly. “He may be able to alter what you see, but to fabricate an entire world like this…”

“So maybe he’s an extra powerful trickster?” you asked.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “He has to be something even more powerful. He blocked our bond. I haven’t felt anything from you for days. You have no idea how worried I was. ”

He took your hand in his. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, knowing how it felt to feel nothing from the bond. “For me it’s just been like an hour.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s this trickster creature that I blame. I will get us out of this,” he swore. “Maybe I can find a weakness in this reality he created.” 

“Like a crack in the TV?” you suggested. 

“Perhaps,” he agreed. “I will keep an eye out, but for now I think it’s best we go along with his game. He is too powerful and I am afraid of what he can do to you while we are here.”

The two of you approached the stern and you stepped up towards the railing. Cas pulled you back.

  
“It’s not safe,” he said.

“It’s what we have to do,” you told him. “In the movie, the female protagonist stands up on the rail with her love interest behind her so it feels like she’s flying. Don’t worry, you can actually fly, so if I trip or something just please come after me before I hit the water.”

Cas still looked wary.

“I trust you Cas,” you told him. “Now trust me.”

He let your hand go and you gave him an encouraging smile. You had always loved this movie though you had never told anyone about it. Dean would have made fun of you endlessly for liking those cheesy chick flick movies as he put it. So you were a sucker for cinematic romance, big deal. Up until recently, your life had been vastly devoid of any romance so you lived vicariously through Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio.

You climbed onto the railing carefully, holding on to the bars with your hands. 

“Ok, now stand right up behind me,” you told him.

A second later you felt the warmth of his body press up against your back. 

“Okay!” you called out into the air, hoping the trickster was listening. “I’m gonna do the thing!”

No one answered. 

“I still don’t understand what he gets from this,” you muttered. 

You slowly raised your arms in the air and the wind whipped your hair around your face. It didn’t feel like when Cas transported you somewhere, but it did remind you of flying high above the ocean. Feeling stupid, you said the words you knew the trickster was waiting for.

“I’m flying Cas,” you said, going red in the face. 

Nothing happened. The scene remained the same. 

“Hello?” you called out. “I said I’m flying?”

“Yes, I heard you,” Cas said. “This is not flying.”

“No, I know. I just thought he would let us go if I said the thing the woman says in the movie,” you sighed, lowering your arms. 

“What happens after she says that?” Cas asked. 

“Well...they uh...kiss,” you said, blushing slightly. 

“Perhaps we should try that,” he offered. 

“I mean, sure. It’s just a little weird...performing for the trickster,” you half laughed. “But sure, we can give it a go.”

You turned your head like Rose did in the movie, offering your lips to him. He took your queue and his lips found yours at once. His tongue found yours and you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer to you. Though you knew the trickster was probably watching, you couldn’t help but let yourself get lost in his kiss. That familiar warmth shot through you, reaching every inch of your body.

  
Suddenly you were doused with water. You pulled back and blinked. The pair of you were no longer standing there on the bow of the ship, but instead you were standing on a dock beside a lake and it was absolutely pouring. You looked down, noticing the pale blue dress you now wore. It became soaked in an instant, as did Castiel’s white linen shirt that he was wearing, offering you a rather tempting view of his chest underneath.

“Was this part of the film?” Cas shouted over the rain.

“No, this is a different movie,” you yelled back, looking around at the little rowboat. “I think this is a movie called ‘The Notebook’.”

“What do we do?” he asked.

“I don’t remember,” you told him. “I only saw this one like one time a million years ago. Uh….I think I remember the characters yelling at each other a bit before confessing their love or something like that.”

“I...do not wish to yell at you,” he shouted over the rain. 

“You’re kind of already yelling,” you pointed out in a loud voice. “This trickster is really starting to piss me off. Not that I don’t love you or anything I just didn’t think I’d have to shout it to you over the pouring rain!”

“You love me?” Cas asked, stepping closer to you so he wouldn’t have to yell as loudly. 

“Of course I love you,” you told him with a smile. “I’m sorry this is the first time I’ve said it.”

“It’s alright, I should have said it a long time ago,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “(Y/N), I love you with every inch of my being.”

You answered him by reaching up and kissing him deeply. 

Suddenly the feeling of his lips disappeared and you opened your eyes to find yourself completely dry, sitting in the front row of a movie theater. Playing on the screen above you was the scene you had just recreated from The Notebook.    
  
“Bravo! Took you knuckleheads long enough though,” The trickster said appearing in the seat beside you.

“Where’s Cas?” You asked.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about him. I’ve got him right where I want him, safe and sound...well mostly,” he told you. “Beautiful performance though really.”

“So what? You get your kicks watching us make out?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Let’s just say, I’m very interested in where your relationship with that featherball will go,” he said with a smile. “I mean come on...an angel and a human? Who decided that one would be a good idea?”

“Apparently, God did,” you huffed. “You know, the big cheese upstairs?”

“God….yeah he’s just filled with bright ideas isn’t he?” the trickster scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Where are Sam and Dean?” you asked, ignoring his cynicism. “I want to see them.”

“They’ve been playing their rolls, just like you,” he said pointing to the screen. 

You looked up and watched them star in a commercial about herpes. You coughed to cover up a smile.

“Okay, that’s pretty funny, I’ll give you that one,” you told him. “But still. How long are we going to play your little game?”

“Until they get the message,” the trickster shrugged. 

  
“What message?” you asked. 

“Those two have had their roles written out for them since the dawn of man. It’s time they start fulfilling their roles instead of whining all the time,” he said. 

“So...you want the end of the world to happen?” you guessed. 

“I want this season of Earth to be over. It’s been long overdue for a cancellation,” he laughed. 

“So who’s side are you on then? Angels or demons?”

“Nuh uh, you’ve heard enough from me babycakes. Let’s get you back to the morons before they think I took you away and did naughty things to you,” he said before he snapped his fingers.


	17. Gabe Interrupted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time to finish the Gabe episode. :) 
> 
> WE'VE REACHED 300 LIKES ON THIS STORY SO FOR THAT AMAZING ACCOMPLISHMENT THE NEXT CHAPTER I POST THERE WILL BE SMUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. 
> 
> THANKS SO MUCH YOU GUYS!

You found yourself standing in front of a door so naturally, you opened it. Sam and Dean were inside of what looked like a motel room from the 70s. You heard cheers from a crowd you couldn’t see.

“(Y/N) where have you been!?” Dean demanded.

“Reenacting cheesy romance movies with Cas,” you told him honestly.

  
The unseen crowd catcalled in response. 

  
“Oh great, we’ve had to play nutcracker and star in a herpes commercial, and you get to do the horizontal tango with your boyfriend.”

The crowd laughed. 

  
“That’s not --” you began but you were interrupted by Cas crashing through the door looking a little worse for the wear.

  
“Cas!” you called, rushing towards him. He had several cuts across his face and an angry bruise was forming across one cheek. 

The crowd applauded. 

“Woah, you okay?” Dean asked. 

“I don’t have much time,” Cas said.

“What happened?” Sam asked. 

“I got out,” Cas said.

“From where?” you asked.

“Listen to me. Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be,” he told the brothers. 

“What thing—the Trickster?” Dean asked.

  
“I don’t think it is a trickster,” Cas shook his head. 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

Suddenly, Cas was thrown backwards, hitting the wall painfully. The trickster appeared in the door, smiling triumphantly. 

“Hello!” he greeted as the crowd applauded and cheered. ““Thank you. Thank you, ladies.”

Cas looked up with wide eyes, his mouth now duck taped shut. He stared at you imploringly, like he was trying to tell you something.

“Hi, Castiel!” he said. “Oh don’t look at me like that. Oh, do you need more time with your special lady friend? Well who am I to stand in the way of true love!?”

He clapped his hands and you and Cas both vanished in a fizzle of static. 

You opened your eyes and noticed how heavy you felt. You looked down to see you were wearing the most gorgeous golden ball gown you had ever seen in real life. You blinked and realized you were standing in a grand ball room with a huge crystal chandelier hanging above you. Cas stood before you dressed to the nines in a royal blue suit. He was looking down at his outfit perplexed with his attire. Suddenly he looked up at you and did a double take. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a familiar song echoing throughout the grand hall. 

“Really? Beauty and the Beast?” you called out loudly to the room.

“Am I to assume that I am the Beast?” Cas asked.

“Apparently, but we can switch outfits if you want. This dress is kinda hard to breath in,” you complained. 

“No, I think it looks much better on you than it would on me,” he countered. 

“Thanks, but the Trickster really needs to learn that corsets are outdated,” you sighed, pulling at the dress that really did amplify your bosom but only at the expense of your lungs. 

“It’s not a trickster,” Cas said quickly. “He’s my brother, Gabriel.”

“You mean the trickster is an angel? Well that explains how he’s so powerful,” you surmised. “So how do we break out of here?”

“Gabriel is extremely powerful. He’s an archangel. I hate to say it, but he’s definitely more powerful than I am,” Cas frowned. 

“How did you break out earlier?” 

“It wasn’t easy. It nearly killed me, but I was able to find a crack in his reality that he built,” he told you.

“And the likelihood of doing that again?” 

“Slim. Besides it would definitely kill you,” he explained. 

  
“Great. So we’re stuck here until Gabe let’s us out or Sam and Dean finds a way to thwart him,” you guessed.

  
“It looks that way,” he sighed. 

“As much as I loved this movie, I really wish he would have picked something from this century,” you gasped, really feeling the restriction of the corset.

And just like that the scene fizzled and changed around you. Seconds later you were standing on the porch of a familiar house overlooking a familiar lake front. Cas sat next to you in the rocking chair beside you.

“Glad to know he’s listening in,” you grumbled, but you sighed deeply when you realized you were in your normal attire. Cas also looked relieved to be back in his normal trench coat. “How does he even know about this place?”

“The same way he knows about your favorite films. He can look into your mind and see your past experiences,” Cas told you.

“Talk about an invasion of privacy,” you growled. “This is our place. I don’t like him knowing about it.”

“Neither do I,” he agreed. 

“You know I’ve never really explored the inside,” you said, standing up. 

Immediately you regretted it. A wave of dizziness washed over you and you stumbled backwards.

“Are you alright?” Cas asked, quickly catching you before you fell over.

“Yeah...all these scene changes really did a number on my head,” you muttered leaning against him for support.

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” he said, picking you up bridal style as if you didn’t weigh a thing. 

  
He carried you across the threshold and you tried not to giggle, your ming going to places it shouldn’t have. The inside was surprisingly modern and open. It was a farmhouse style, but it had definitely been redecorated within the last couple of years. Everything was done in whites and grays, making the house feel chic and homey. Cas set you down on the sectional sofa and went to get you a glass of water. You thanked him and drank deeply from the clear glass. 

“So this is a real place right? Gabe just pulled it into his reality?” you asked.

“Yes, he built this reality in reference to your memories. But the house really does exist,” he replied. 

“Good to know,” you said, making a mental note to check this place out sometime when you weren’t in an alternate reality. “So now what do we do?” 

“Unfortunately, all we can do is wait,” he said. “I don’t have the strength to break through Gabriel’s barriers again and I wouldn’t risk it with you.”

“Well at least he was kind enough to put us somewhere more comfortable than an ancient castle,” you joked. “Although that getup did look pretty good on you.”

“Really?” he asked, a slight smile on the edge of his lips.

“Blue is definitely your color. But I gotta say, I missed the trench coat,” you admitted. “Nothing screams ‘Castiel’ like this trench coat.”

“I like this coat as well,” he agreed. 

“Hey can I try it on?” you asked suddenly. “I’ve secretly always wanted to and well...we have time to kill.”

“Of course,” he said.

He slipped it off and gave you a nice view of the suit he wore underneath it. Without the coat, he seemed less bulky, less imposing. His tall frame was accentuated by the form fitting suit and you couldn’t help but stare.

“Why are you staring?” he asked, holding the coat out for you to take. 

“Because I’m enjoying this view,” you replied cheekily. “It’s a very nice view.”

The hint of a blush spread across his face and he let out a small grin which made your heart flutter hard against your chest. You smiled and took the coat he was offering you. You stood and slipped it on over your clothes. It positively engulfed you and the bottom hit the floor. Cas was much taller than you after all. The sleeves hung limply past your fingertips. You took in a deep breath, loving how it smelled like him. You held up your arms with a smile.

  
“How does it look?” you asked with a laugh. 

“Its um...a little too big,” Cas said, smiling widely at you. 

“Just a little bit,” you agreed. “Wow, I see why you wear this thing though. I feel like I’m ready to take on a whole hoard of demons in this thing.”

“I think you might have a hard time not tripping over the coat,” Cas said, still smiling at your antics. 

“You might be right,” you laughed. “Here, it looks better on you.”

You handed the coat back to him and he slipped it back on. You stepped closer to him and planted a quick kiss upon his lips.

  
“Thanks for letting me try it on,” you said in a low voice. 

“I would do anything to see you happy,” he told you, his voice growing husky. 

“It’s too bad. We finally have plenty of time to ourselves and your brother is watching every move we make,” you sighed. 

“I guess he’ll just have to watch me kiss you then,” he growled before attacking you with his lips. 

Your arms snaked up and found purchase at the back of his neck. Cas’s tongue raked across yours. He was becoming incredibly good at kissing and you moaned as he deepened the kiss. His hands gripped your waist and pulled you closer to him.

The sound of a throat clearing shattered the growing heat between you. You looked up and noticed you were no longer in the house but instead, back in the abandoned mill you had entered with Dean. Gabriel was encircled in a ring of holy fire. Sam and Dean were giving you mixed looks. Sam looked more embarrassed, Dean looked halfway disgusted. 

“Oh come on, can’t you keep your hands off each other for five seconds?” Dean asked. 

You jumped back away from Cas, your face going red with embarrassment. 

“I told you they were busy,” Gabriel said with glee. “Sorry to cut things short sweetcheeks, but these buzzkills were persistent.”

“I was gonna ask if you were okay, but it looks like you were doing just fine,” Dean scoffed. 

“Yup… all good here,” you coughed, rubbing your neck awkwardly. 

“Hello, Gabriel,” Cas called, staring at his brother from across the flames. 

“Hey, bro. How's the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful,” Gabriel spat. 

“Okay, we're out of here. Come on,” Dean commanded, and you followed him towards the exit. 

“Uh. Okay. Guys?” Gabriel called. “So, so what? Huh? You're just gonna, you're gonna leave me here forever? After the great time you had, (Y/N)?”

Dean stopped in his tracks and you followed suit. 

“No. We're not, 'cause we don't screw with people the way you do. And for the record? This isn't about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can't be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family,” Dean said seriously. 

With that, he pulled the fire alarm nearby and water began pouring from the ceiling. You followed Dean out to the car. 

  
“I take it you had a better time than we did,” Dean asked you and Cas. 

“Probably, but you’re gonna need to fill us in on what happened to you,” you answered. 

“Yeah, okay, but for the love of God don’t fill me in on whatever it was we interrupted,” Dean shivered. “I never want to see that again.” 

“Let’s just call it payback for years of listening to your conquests through paper thin motel walls,” you said dryly. 


	18. Bliss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YARG!! THERE BE SMUT AHEAD!
> 
> Seriously, if you don't like written porn, don't read this chapter. You have been warned. 
> 
> :)) Hope you all enjoy it!

“Do I really have to wear the heels?” you asked Dean.

“Yes you have to wear the heels. It will really sell the whole damsel in distress package,” he told you. “Now hurry up and get dressed.”

“Fine,” you huffed, and you slammed the door on your bedroom. 

“I don’t like this,” Cas said, sitting on your bed. 

“Neither do I, but don’t worry. I can handle some demons,” you told him. “And Sam and Dean will be there.”

“I wish I could be there,” he sighed. 

  
“I know. If the place weren’t covered in Enochian warding symbols you know you’d be the first person I invited,” you said slipping out of your jeans. 

You were in your small closet, which blocked Castiel’s view of your nearly naked form. You pulled on the short black dress that was bought specifically for this situation. You slipped on the thigh holster that was uncomfortable as hell, but it held the demon knife nicely and you couldn’t even tell you were armed. You slipped on the hellish heels and tested them out a bit. Deciding you were sturdy enough, you made your way back out into your bedroom.    
  
“Could you zip me up?”

“Oh...uh,” Cas breathed, taking in your appearance with wide eyes. “You...you look...that’s a very nice dress.”

“Get a good look now because I’ll probably never wear it again,” you told him, blushing a bit at his reaction. “Well unless you want me to...you know...while we’re alone.”

He slowly zipped the dress up your back. 

“Keep the dress,” he whispered into your ear. 

* * *

“Hello? Could you help me please? My car broke down,” you said in a frantic voice into the intercom. 

“I'll be down in a minute,” the man answered back. 

You only had to wait a moment before two men approached the gate. 

“Evening, pretty lady. Get yourself on in here,” the first man said. 

“Oh that’s alright, I just need to make a call. Could I borrow a phone?” you asked innocently. 

“You don't need to call anyone, baby,” he said with a sneer. “We're the only help you're ever gonna need.”   
  


“You know...I think that maybe you’ll be needing the help,” you answered cockily, slipping out the demon knife from your holster. 

In an instant you stabbed the first man in the gut with the blade. His life crackled and sparked out of him, but you didn’t have time to watch. The second man was upon you. His fist went towards your face but you ducked. Even in these heels you weren’t very tall. You swept your leg out and tripped him and he fell to the ground with a thud. You were on him in an instant, plunging the knife deep into his heart. 

“Nice work!” Sam said approvingly, making his entrance. 

“And all in heels and a slutty dress,” you grinned. “Lets see you guys do that.”

“Let’s not,” Dean laughed. 

A few minutes and one wire cutter later, the three of you entered the mansion and cut the electricity. You were the one in charge of making the devils trap while Sam and Dean played lookout. They took down a couple of demons while you were working but you got the trap hidden nicely on the bottom of an ornate rug in the study. Now all you had to do was wait for Crowley. Indeed a few minutes later, a shorter man in a tailored suit entered the room with a drink in his hand. He stopped just on top of the rug. 

“It’s Crowley right?” you asked, making your presence known.

“It is, though I must say I usually like to know the names of my guests before letting them enter my home. Especially one as stunning as you darling,” he said smoothly.

“Charming,” you muttered, pouring yourself a drink from his bar. 

“Just make yourself at home then,” he said.

“Oh we will,” Sam said from the doorway. 

“Ah. So The Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough,” Crowley said airly. 

He stepped forwards but stopped at the edge of the rug. He toed it and saw the devils trap you had placed on the bottom only minutes ago.

“Do you have any idea how much this rug cost?” Crowley asked irritably. 

“Bill me,” you answered, taking a sip of his expensive scotch. 

Suddenly two men appeared behind Sam and Dean and went to grab them but two shots rang out. The demons fell down dead and you looked around to see Crowley was holding the Colt. The Colt this whole operation had been in search of. 

“This is it, right? This is what it's all about,” Crowley guessed, examining the Colt. He looked up at the boys. “We need to talk. Privately.”

* * *

After retrieving the Colt from Crowley who had not only willingly given you the weapon, but the location of Lucifer himself, the three of you head back to the house to form a plan with the others. Jo and Ellen had stopped by, willing and able to lend a hand with the dire situation and you appreciated the assistance. It had been a while since you had seen Jo and though she was younger than you, you still appreciated her company. Though you hadn’t kept in touch lately, Ellen had been like a second mother to you over the years. She was always around when you needed sage advice or a place to crash. 

After deciding you were all going to try and ice the devil, the scene turned into a bit of a farewell party. None of you knew what to expect so you knew how dangerous this would be. You weren’t even sure if the Colt could even kill the devil, but you had to try. 

“Listen to me, if it gets bad out there tomorrow, I want you to promise me you’ll get yourself to safety,” your father told you as you helped him reach another bottle of whiskey from the cabinet. 

“I won’t abandon Sam and Dean,” you told him. “But I hear what you’re saying. I’ll do everything in my power to get out of there in one piece.” 

“You don’t have to worry about her, Bobby. She’s got her own angelic bodyguard,” Dean told him, drinking deeply from his beer. 

“Where is your boyfriend anyways?” your father asked. 

“I think Ellen is trying to get him drunk,” you laughed. “Apparently it would take like the whole liquor store for him to feel anything.”

“Well tell her to quit wasting the good stuff on him!” Bobby cried out. 

* * *

Later that evening found you catching up with Jo.

“So you’re dating an angel now….How’s that going?” she asked. 

“Complicated,” you answered. “It’s a bit more than dating.”

You showed her the brand on your arm and explained about the soulmate business. 

“Wow, that does sound complicated…” Jo breathed. “At least he’s cute.”

You both stared over at Castiel who was in the middle of a conversation with Dean.

  
“There is that,” you sighed. 

  
For a moment you just stared, appreciating every inch of him. You didn’t know if it was because of the bond or not, but you felt like you could recognize every single inch of him. Everything about him from his messy hair to his gravelly voice was familiar. It was home. 

Sensing your gaze, Cas looked up and met your eyes. 

“Excuse me, Jo. I need to do something I should have done a long time ago….or should I say someone,” you waggled your eyebrows at the girl. 

“Go get em tiger!” she giggled. 

You quickly approached the boys and you took Castiel’s hand in yours.    
  
“Sorry Dean, I need to borrow him for the rest of the night,” you told the older Winchester. “If Dad asks where I went, just tell him I went to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll cover for you. Now go on and get it on before you both die virgins,” Dean laughed. 

“Let’s get out of here,” you told Cas, pulling him towards the door. 

  
He followed you outside and you stopped on the porch. 

“Do you think you could take us to that lakehouse right now? If it’s empty, I mean,” you asked him.

“Of course,” he said.

A second later you were standing on that familiar porch. The stars shone beautifully overhead, a million winks of light watching over you. You took a deep breath. 

“So here’s the thing” you started nervously. “I realize how dangerous tomorrow is...and well… I think I’m ready to….you know....consummate our relationship. If that’s something you’d be interested in. If you’re not ready I totally understand, we could just hang out here for a bit alone. I wouldn’t mind that either.”

Castiel stopped your rambling by crashing his lips onto yours. He moved his mouth hungrily against yours and you moaned. Just when you went to deepen the kiss, he pulled away. 

“I would love nothing more than to continue, but I didn’t bring prophylactics,” he said suddenly. 

“Oh don’t worry about that. I can’t get pregnant,” you told him. “Long sad story, I’ll tell you some other time.”

“Oh…” he said slowly.

  
After a pause, his lips were once again on yours, crashing against you like a wave of warmth in the bitter cold night air. His hands snaked around your body and a second later you were straddling him and he was supporting your weight. You were briefly aware that you were no longer outside, Castiel had carried the two of you inside. All you could really focus on was his tongue against yours. He tasted like whiskey, and you knew you probably tasted similar. 

You let him take you upstairs and into the main bedroom of the house. He flicked on the lights and you noticed the large white canopy bed. You sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever was listening. 

“I heard that,” he said against your lips. 

He let you down off of him and suddenly he seemed awkward and nervous. You shivered in the cold, missing his body against yours. 

“Oh,” Castiel said suddenly. “Here.” 

He lifted a hand and suddenly a roaring fire had started in the fireplace you hadn't realized was there. You had been too preoccupied with the bed. Warmth rolled through the room fighting off the chill of the night. 

“Thanks,” you said. “Are you okay?”

“I’m a little nervous. I’ve never done this before. I know the logistics of how it works of course and I’ve seen a few pornographic films but…”

“You watched porn?” you asked with a smile. 

“Once I came to the conclusion that you and I would most likely be intimate...I wanted to do some research. I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said seriously.

  
“Oh Cas, you can’t disappoint me. I’ve never done this either remember? As cheesy as this sounds, all I want is to lose my virginity to the angel I love,” you told him. 

“Say it again,” he said, his voice low. 

  
“I love you,” you told him, taking a step towards him. 

You pushed his trench coat off of him. 

“And I’m yours.”

You pulled his blazer off his shoulders. 

“And you can do whatever you want to me.”

He audibly growled at that. Once again you found yourself in his arms and he pushed you onto the bed without further ado. You pulled at his tie trying to loosen it.

“Let me,” he said.

A second later you found yourself naked as the day you were born underneath him. Behind him you saw your clothes were folded in a neat little pile in a chair in the corner. 

“Oh,” you gasped. “That was fast.”

Cas stared down at your naked form and you stared right back at him. His frame was all muscle, but not overdone like those beefy men on the covers of the fitness magazines that Sam sometimes read. He was just the perfect amount of muscle and every inch of him was beautiful. Especially his crystal eyes which were staring down at you reverently. Suddenly you felt self conscious under the weight of his gaze. 

“Sorry about the scars,” you said bashfully. You knew you had acquired many unsightly scars over the years, but you had never been self conscious about them until this moment. 

“You are perfect,” he breathed like a prayer. “Truely, the most perfect of my father’s creations. And you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you agreed before melting your lips against his. 

Your tongues danced together and you felt his erection against your thigh. Your center was soaking at this point, aching and ready for him. You ran your hands down his broad shoulders and stopped when you felt his feathers. 

  
“Cas,” you gasped. “Let me see your wings.”

He pulled back, but nodded. 

Huge black wings stood out in stark contrast to the white canopy that hung around the bed. They shimmered in the firelight like inky dark pools, both beautiful and dangerous. 

“Will this hurt you?” he asked, holding his erection in his hand.

“No, I’ve uh...taken care of that a long time ago,” you told him, your cheeks going red. “You know… by myself.”

“You mean you’ve masturbated,” Cas said. 

His cock twitched and he looked down at it.

  
“Apparently the thought of you pleasuring yourself is arousing to me,” he said. 

“What about the thought of you pleasuring me?” you asked. 

You pulled him down before he could answer. He kissed you gently before he placed the head of his cock against your entrance. He slid inside you maddeningly slowly, inch by inch. You moaned aloud at the sensation of him filling you to the brim. 

“Oh Cas,” you cried out. 

“Did...I hurt you?” he gasped.

“No, it feels so good Cas,” you told him. “Please...please fuck me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He snapped his hips against yours and he cried out audibly. You ran your hands down his feathered appendages and he moaned loudly, spurring you on. He increased his pace, fucking you frantically into the mattress. A scalding heat, similar to the warmth you felt when he kissed you but a thousand times more intense, streaked across your body but it didn’t hurt. Instinct told you it came from the bond. It felt like heaven. It felt like hell. It felt like pure bliss. 

“Castiel!” you screamed as your orgasm shot through you like a white hot knife, blurring out your vision. 

In the throws of your intense pleasure, you heard him shout something in Enochian as he came as well. The world went white, then suddenly black. The light bulbs overhead burst in a shower of sparks and the fire was put out as a wave of energy rolled through the room, originating from Castiel who had collapsed on top of you. Slowly, you came down from your high, panting as though you had just run a marathon. You caressed his wings lightly and he shivered. He was also panting against your breasts as though he had just fought in an intense battle. 

“I’m sorry that didn’t last longer,” he said between gasps. 

“No Cas, it was perfect. Seriously, those were the best moments of my life so far. I’m so glad we came here tonight. Was that your grace that blew out the power?”

“Yes, I was afraid that might happen. I’ll need to get better about controlling my grace,” he said, pebbling your breast with kisses. 

“I guess that means we need to practice,” you suggested. 

“What’s that saying? There’s no time like the present,” he chuckled softly. 

* * *

Several hours later found you absolutely spent, wrapped up in thick white blankets and Cas’s arms. He kissed the top of your head and you kissed his collar bone. You both couldn’t seem to stop your lips from making contact with one another. You yawned and snuggled closer to him. 

“(y/n)?” he said softly.

“Hmm?” you answered. 

“Will you tell me why you cannot conceive?” Cas asked.

“Oh...yeah. It’s not a very nice story. Well you know how my mother was possessed when I was younger?” you began, and he nodded. “Well she...the demon that possessed her stabbed me with a kitchen knife and the blade did a lot of damage to my uterus. The doctors were able to save my life, but they couldn’t save my uterus. They told me it would be impossible for me to have kids.”

“I’m so sorry,” Castiel said placing a yet another kiss upon your temple. 

“Thanks. I never really wanted children anyways. You don’t want kids or anything do you?” you asked quickly.

“The offspring of a human and an angel is seen as an abomination,” he told you seriously. “Our child would be hunted by the entirety of heaven.”

  
“Oh….well I guess it’s a good thing I can’t conceive,” you said awkwardly. 

“Perhaps it was meant to be,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” you agreed. “As long as we can continue to do this, I am perfectly content without a functioning uterus.”

“I hope we will have many nights like this in the future,” Cas said. “As long as we survive tomorrow. Stay with me, alright? I will protect you.”

“And I’ll protect you,” you promised, kissing him softly. “We’ll protect each other, even from the Devil himself.”


End file.
